The way home
by Neal-george-caffrey-bennett
Summary: A post season 5 story. Neal escaped after being kidnapped for 3 months. Peter is lonely and angry, but soon our lovely couple will be reunited. Lots of bromance and Neal wump, because i love peter taking care of neal. NO SLASH. This is my first fanfic, so please review. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1.

It was a cold outside and quiet, very quiet. Most people had already gone to bed. The rooftops were white. A small amount of snow lay on the ground. The moonlight gave the streets a melodramatic light. Not that con man Neal George Caffrey was looking at that. He was too busy running for his life.

Neal ran as fast as he could. This was his chance, his only chance. If he blew this there would be no way out. Neal started to run faster as he listened to his feet pounding on the ground. Quickly he took a look behind him. _Thank god, there was nothing._ Neal didn't stop though. He knew that they would be looking for him soon. And if they actually found him. Well let's say that, that would not be good. Not good at all.

As Neal turned another corner, he thought about the last couple of months. It was definitely not one of his luckiest months. Of course the trouble had started with Rebecca, or Rachel. Neal still didn't know which name to give her. After he and Peter had found the twin of the hope Diamant and had arrested Rachel, Peter had requested that Neal should be released. Actually Peter had guaranteed it. Yet the FBI did not seem to agree. They had denied the request and told Peter that Neal needed to serve out his sentence. Of course that news had not been taken well. Neal had walked away without even saying a word. He had already met up with Mozzie in the park, when he confronted the man with the cowboy boots. Of course that had not been a very smart move. Peter would have shouted at him for being so stupid.

'Neal, you need to tell me everything! I can't have you holding secrets! What if he had hurt you?! Neal this is where the FBI is for! We protect our own! Now tell me everything that has happened, as I consider not telling El about this.' Neal chuckled. Yes, that was exactly how Peter would have reacted. Even though he and Peter hadn't been on the best of turns lately, Neal knew Peter would have helped. But he hadn't told Peter and Peter hadn't found out.

Shivering Neal stopped at an intersection. Quickly checking the road behind him. Luckily there was nothing there, except an odd-looking cat. _Okay think Neal. First things first. Find out where you are. _Neal looked around. Across the street there were a few shops. Although Neal knew a lot about today's fashion world non off the shops sounded familiar. Then his eye caught a diner, 'la Aqua'. _Well that doesn't exactly narrow it down. _Crossing the intersection Neal looked at the menu cart hanging in the window. _Bingo! _It was written in Italian. _Okay, now what? _Neal looked around again, feeling a bid lost. He had to keep moving, but he didn't want to move in the wrong direction. What if they found him again?

Suddenly a bell started ringing. Neal jumped and looked in the direction the sound was coming from. A large dome rose behind the Old Italian houses. It was the most beautiful thing Neal had seen in 3 months. _Saint-Peters Church. _Neal couldn't help but laugh at the irony of that. _Thank you Peter._ Taking another look at the church Neal started running again.

Neal had spent a lot of time in Europe trying to find the music box. Doing, of course, also a few jobs on the side. Rome had always been one of his favorite cities. Rome was like Paris, one of the art capitals of Europe. Of course Neal had scouted the city several times, never stealing anything though. At least nothing that could be proven. Still this was not the way he had wanted to see Rome again.

Neal had stopped running. 'Always look like you have nothing to hide' Mozzie had told him. It was something Neal had learned to do at heart. It was also why the FBI had just stopped following him around. Today they rather looked at his tracking data. Neal looked down at is ankle. It was red all the way around and there were several scratch marks leading down. Looking at the time on a computer store Neal started to walk faster. The sun would be up soon.

'Know your enemy' was another one of Mozzie's lessons. One that did not disappoint. At that time Neal's enemy had been the FBI and Interpol. That's why Neal had learned the location of every American Embassy in Europe. Which was a lot. The Margherita USA Embassy Palace was a beautiful building. Though it didn't compare to the other buildings in the street.

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Guard Paul Gardner was just walking towards the house. He had just finished his 6 hour shift, where he was unable to watch the game that was on tonight. Damn embassies. Paul had been here only 6 months and he hated it already. The only thing you could eat was pasta. Paul thought of the stores in Los Angeles. God he missed home. And then there were the hours. Even though the pay was better, Paul still didn't like to watch the streets at this hour of the day. It was just way to quiet. Paul took a last look at the garden and turned to the door, when he heard someone running. Paul looked around and saw a young man running towards the gate. In his years as a guard Paul had never seen someone this desperate before. The man looked like he had gone through hell and back, which was probably true. His shirt and trousers were dirty and had several bloodstains on it. As the man was running towards Jim Paul noticed he wasn't wearing any shoes. Paul started to walk back quickly. _God what happened to you?_

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Neal had walked for the past 2 hours, never stopping though. It had been harder to find the embassy then Neal had hoped. He just wanted to turn around, because he had walked in circles for several hours, when Neal noticed the American flag on top of a tall building. As soon as he saw the tall building he wanted to run to it. At first he managed to stay calm, but without really noticing it he started running again. His feet aching every time he took a step.

The guard who had walked back to the house had turned to face Neal. Neal saw the shocked look in his eyes. _I didn't know I looked that bad. _The other guard had taken out his gun. 'Stop it right there!' Neal didn't care about the gun, though. The guard was ready to take a shot, when the other guard stepped in. 'Jim stop it.' Looking at Neal the guard started talking slowly. 'Are you okay? I'm Paul and this here is Jim. Are you American? Can you understand me?' As soon as Neal heard the word American he started explaining. Yet he spoke so fast, that Paul could only look confused. _Common Caffrey, slow down and think. _'My name is Neal Caffrey. I'm a convicted art forger and I'm probably a wanted fugitive. Please, let me in. Arrest me. If they find me now, they will kill me. Please, just let me in. Arrest me and call Peter. I mean Special Agent Burke of the FBI. Just call him. Call the FBI. Call Peter!'

At that Neal collapsed on the hard stone floor. As the guards called for help from inside the house, nobody noticed the black sedan from across the street. The man looked at the commotion across the street. Slowly he put out his cigarette. _See you soon Caffrey._


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**

**Thank you so much reading my story. And of course also for the kind reviews. You guys are really to kind. I really appreciate it. Here is the next chapter. I hope you enjoy it and that I will not let you down. Please review and enjoy. :)**

Chapter 2

The lanterns shined brightly this night. Normally a couple would flicker, but tonight all of them worked. A yellow cab stopped in the middle of the street. A middle-aged woman stepped out of the cab. She took a quick look at the house and then turned to open the trunk. After getting her bags out, she paid the cabdriver and walked to the front door. Putting her bags down, she quietly unlocked the door. A blue-eyed brunet stepped through and almost tripped over something golden at her feet. Leaning over she started patting it. 'Hey, Satch. Good boy. Good Satchmo. Did you miss me, did you miss mommy? Where is your daddy?' It had been four weeks since Elizabeth Bruke had last seen her home and she had missed it. Not that Washington wasn't nice, but still it was not home. Home is where your hart is and Elizabeth Burke's hart was here with her husband. Smiling Elizabeth let go of Satchmo and turned to pick up her bags. It was empty inside. They had decided to leave the sofa, a bookcase, the carpet, a couple of photos and the television. The lack of a table and chairs left the back side of the room very empty.

Elizabeth sighed. They used to have friends over almost every week. But now only Diana and Jones came by from time to time. Usually because they had to work and decided that Peter had better coffee. After Neal had gone missing Mozzie had refused to come by. He was too busy trying to find Neal. Mozzie was convinced it was all Peters fault. This was not the first time Elizabeth had thought about Neal. The general theory was that Neal had run, because the FBI had decided to decline his early release. To be honest she had thought the same thing. But when Mozzie showed up at the house worried sick because he couldn't contact Neal she had changed her mind. Neal had the tendency to run, but he would never leave Mozzie behind. Worried she looked at the calendar. Neal had been missing for 3 months now. Peter and Mozzie had turned every stone they could find, but it was as if Neal had vanished from the earth. O _Neal, where are you?_

Suddenly Elizabeth realized that she had been staring for 10 minutes. Quickly she turned around and began to walk up the stairs. Quietly she opened the bedroom door. Peter had decided that El should take the bed with her, because Peter usually came to her. Namely because Peter could travel for almost nothing. One of the perks of being an FBI agent. Which meant that Peter flew to D.C. every two weeks to spend the weekend with her. Still it had left Peter without a bed. At the moment her husband was fast on two matrasses. Elizabeth smiled. She had missed him so much. Leaving the bags at the door she walked over to the other matrasses and silently but one beside him. She threw her sleeping bag on the matrass and started undressing. _Peter is going to be so happy._

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The sunlight came creeping through the windows. Special agent Peter Burke turned and stretched out his arm. He hadn't slept this well since El had moved to Washington. He could almost hear her breathing next to him. And it was just like his hand touched her side. 'Morning, hon.' Peters eyes flew open and he bolted back. The sudden movement caused the matrass slide away and Peter fell flat on the ground. At first there was complete silence, then a soft giggle emerged and it grew and grew into full out laughter. Peter opened his eyes again and looked at the person next to him. Smiling he crawled over and kissed a still laughing Elizabeth. 'He, hon. I missed you.' El moved closer and kissed him. 'I missed you to.' Peter moved so his back was leaning against the wall as El crawled on his lap and rested her head against his chest.

'Not that I'm not happy that you're here, but aren't you supposed to be in D.C?' He felt El's head shake. 'No, there is a new exhibit in New York. I was send to see if there was anything worth buying. I also brought a curator to authenticate. Apparently it's very special exhibit, they have a new work of every grand master there is. Some suspect that they're all forgeries. Really Neal would have loved it…' Suddenly she stopped talking. She had stopped using Neal's name in Peter's presence. It broke her hart to see how sad, hurt and angry Peter got when they talked about Neal.

Quickly Peter started talking to fill the silence. 'So how long are you staying?' Peter had not wanted El to throw away her career, but he still didn't like to be alone in the house. It felt empty, like the light that had made the room shine had gone out. But most of all he missed the regular things. The greeting when he came home from work. The dinner parties, the date nights, the lunches and the talks. Peter still sometimes came home shouting 'Hon, I'm home!' He just missed her warmth, her understanding, her kindness and her cleverness. Honestly it didn't matter how long she stayed, he would treasure every minute they had together.

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Ambassador Corn wasn't happy. He didn't just have a bad day. No, he had a terrible day. It started early this morning. When his maid came to bring the coffee. She spilled it all over his desk and paperwork. Hours of work destroyed by one cup of coffee. Frustrated he had sent her away to get a towel. Only then he had noticed the pain in his hand. Of course it had also been burned, _because why would you ever need a hand. _Cursing he had walked to the bathroom to clean himself up. With such a bad morning he should have known that things would only get worse. Around eleven his secretary came in. Turned out the clock in his office was broken and his meeting would start in 20 minutes. Of course the traffic had not worked along and he indeed turned up late at his meeting. But that had not been the worst thing. Apparently he had taken the wrong papers with him. This meant a lot of improvisation. His meeting took most of the day and he returned home around 8 pm. Dinner had not gone well either. Turned out that his chef was ill and one of her students had prepared his meal. Corn shook his head. He needed to remember to fire her. After dinner he had decided to call Star, even an ambassador needs a little loving form time to time. He was just paying Star, when Gardner came in.

Gardner was one of the older guards. Somehow Gardner never improved his mood. Honestly Corn despised the older guard. He was so common and had no manners. Normally people had respect for him, but not Gardner. No, he always had to argue. Corn always got what he wanted, but Gardner would never listen. He wouldn't take orders from the ambassador, which made Corn furious. Corn smiled slightly. That's why he had ordered Gardner to pick up the night shifts of his former colleague. 'Ambassador? Can I have a moment?' Sighing Corn turned to face the older guard. 'Eh, I'm actually really busy. Can't it wait?' Corn started turning around, hoping the guard would leave it at that. 'Actually it can't. I came to inform you that we have a guest.' Frowning Corn looked at the guard. 'A guest, you say? And who would that be at this hour? We had no visits planned for this week.' 'Well technically American citizens can always enter the embassy. Anyway we couldn't send him away even if we wanted to.' 'Really?! And why is that, if I may ask.'

Corn felt his frustration rise. Of course he knew that the embassy was open to every American who came knocking on the door. This also meant a lot of unwelcome company, mainly in the summer. 'Well, his name is Neal Caffrey. He just turned himself in, because he is a wanted fugitive. He was hurt bad, so I had Tosca call the doctor. And… Are you okay?' Corn looked quit pale, all the blood had drained from his face. 'Did you say wanted fugitive?' 'Well yes, but he…' 'Then why in the hell is he still here?! Why didn't you call the police?! Let them take him. I will not have a wanted fugitive in MY embassy!' Quickly he started walking in the direction of the guestrooms. _What the hell was Gardner thinking! A fugitive in my embassy! _If the press got wind of this his career would be over. Corn was so angry he did not notice Paul following him. Finally Tosca's desk came into few. 'Tosca, call the Italian national police. I want this guy out of here.'

Tosca Vargas had been ambassador Corns secretary for nearly 4 years. And in those years she had never seen him so worked up as now. 'I'm sorry sir, but that's not possible. I called the FBI to inform them that we had there fugitive. The FBI agent in charge left me orders that he was not to be moved under any circumstances. And that he needed to be guarded around the clock. Apparently mister Caffrey has a tendency to run. Not that he is capable of running at the moment. Also the doctor is checking him over at the moment. He wants to speak to you as soon as he is done.'

Ambassador Corn couldn't believe what he was hearing. He didn't get orders, he gave them. Who the hell had given the FBI the authority to boss him around?! He had worked half of his live for the right to boss people around. Whoever this Caffrey character was Corn strongly hoped he would be gone soon. _If necessary I will make him leave._

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Special Agent Peter Burke got out of the elevator on the 21th floor. He was relatively late today. Ever since El had gone to Washington Peter had been a real workaholic. Usually he started at 7 am and left at 9 pm. This of course had really worried the team. Peter had always been a workaholic, but this was way too much. Everybody did understand why. With El gone and Neal missing Peter was all alone. Diana and Jones tried to visit frequently, but they too had a busy schedule. And Diana had Theo to look after. Though she had secretly started calling him Teddy. Peter smiled. This morning had been wonderful. He and El had decided to eat breakfast on the bed, mainly because they did not have a table and El didn't like the empty living room. They had talked and talked. This morning had made Peter realize just how much he had missed having El home.

As Peter walked through the glass doors, his few first went to the first desk on the right. Sighing Peter walked past it. The desk had been empty for 3 months now. Yet nobody had claimed the desk. Not that Peter mind, he liked it this way. The real reason that people hadn't claimed the desk was, because Diana had treated to shoot the first guy who did. Neal's belongings had been removed 3 weeks after he had gone missing. Peter had protested but it hadn't helped. Most of the higher-ups believed Neal had run because of his declined release. And the first moments Peter had thought the same thing. He still didn't know for sure if Neal had run or had been taken. Either way he had to find Neal. Which wasn't as easy as it sounded. 'Morning boss, got stuck in traffic?' Peter looked up at the person who just entered his office. 'Morning Diana. No, I had some unexpected company, which needed my attention.' Diana looked surprised at Peter. Peter smiled. 'El came home last night. Apparently there is this new exhibit with famous artists and the national gallery asked her to see if there is anything interesting. Which means she will be staying in New York for about 3 weeks. That reminds me, El asked you over for dinner tomorrow.'

Diana smiled. She had noticed the deep circles around Peter's eyes. Peter never slept well and with El gone, he was all on his own. Now that El was in town for three weeks Peter could finally get a little rest. 'Really? That's great. You can finally get some real furniture. Theo and I love to come over for dinner tomorrow.'

'Good. I will call El and tell her we have company.' Just when Peter wanted to pick up the phone to dial El, it started ringing. Peter frowned. It was a privet European number. Quickly Peter picked up the phone. 'Hello, special agent Peter Burke speaking.' A young woman with a hint of an Italian accent started talking. 'Good morning. You are speaking with Tosca Vargas secretary of ambassador Corn of the American embassy in Rome Italië. I called to inform you that we have found Neal Caffrey.'


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note **

**I just wanted to thank you guys again for reading my story and all the reviews. Thank you for the great tips you are giving me. I hope you like this chapter. I will try and update every month from now on. Please review and enjoy!**

Chapter 3

It had been quiet just a few hours ago. New York had been quiet. It was like the city knew something was wrong, that there was something missing. Diana Barrigan looked at all the new faces in the office. Most of the Harvard crew had been reassigned or promoted. Diana had gotten a promotion too, but she had respectfully declined. Everybody knew what was happening. They were clearing out the office, splitting up everybody who knew Caffrey. Afraid that they would hold back the investigation. Not that it mattered anymore. The bureau had put together a special taskforce to track down Caffrey. Neal would have been trilled. Which white collar criminal could say they had their own taskforce hunting them down?

Honestly after Neal had run, the office had been a mess. People running through the halls, phones in their hands. Marshalls walking around, searching his house and desk. Because Peter was moving to DC all Caffrey related calls had been transferred to Jones. That was also the reason Jones had been the first to know about Neal's escape. Even before he picked up the phone Diana knew what was coming. She had heard about Neal's request for early release and she had also heard it got denied. Peter had called her asking if she could go by the house later this afternoon with Theo to check on Neal. He had hoped it would distract Neal form running. Neal loved Theo. And to her surprise he was really good with the baby. When she asked him about it, he just smiled. 'I wasn't always a high standard white collar criminal, you know. And in the contrary to general believe I did go to school. Maybe not Harvard, but I did learn some stuff in high school.' Diana stared at him for a moment. 'You took parenting classes?' She sounded so surprised, that Neal started laughing. 'Yes, I thought it would come in handy when I became a cop. I thought I could help families better. Don't worry though. I also took art and cooking classes.' As he presented her a beautifully decorated pancake.

Anyway after Jones had informed her on the situation, Diana had called Peter. It had been one of the worst phone calls she had ever made. _How could Neal have been so stupid? Hadn't he learned anything from last time?_ Hughes had pulled some serious strings and honestly Diana didn't see how Neal could get out of this one. _This time I am going to shoot you when you get back._ As she had expected Peter already knew what was coming. He answered the phone with 'He has run, hasn't he?' It was more of a statement than an actual question, yet she felt the need to confirm it. 'I told him not to do anything stupid. I told him. Diana, have Jones pull his tracking data and meet me at the location.' After she had instructed Jones, he and Peter had followed the tracking data.

Yet things had not turned out the way she thought. When Peter and Jones returned Diana was at her desk talking to a very annoying airport employee. Peter came in first, walking quickly to his office. Closing the door behind him and picking up the phone with more force than usual. Jones came a little later walking towards her with a frown. Diana had expected Peter to look betrayed, angry and sad even, but she hadn't expected him to look so worried. When Jones showed her the anklet she understood why. It looked like somebody had thrown it under a bike and then hit it with a hammer. The anklet was broken in to three pieces with the necessary force. Probably a screwdriver Diana guessed. Yet that was not what worried her the most. It was the blood that covert those broken pieces. Diana had always tried to maintain a cool image, especially towards Caffrey. But that did not mean she didn't care for him or worried about him. Not that she would ever tell him that, but Caffrey was like the annoying little brother she never had. Always getting into trouble. The good thing about Caffrey was that he always cleaned up his own messes. Or at least he tried to.

The rest of the day had gone by pretty quickly and so had the last 3 months. It was like Neal had vanished. Not even Mozzie had been able to find him. _Mozzie. _She was not just worried about Neal. The little guy was having a really hard time, because he couldn't find Neal. It caused him to be less careful. Sometimes Diana wondered if it wasn't Mozzie, but Neal who was paranoid. But off course that would have been ridiculous. Saying that Mozzie was not paranoid was like saying the sun was green. The fact that Mozzie was still here on the other hand was a reason to be worried. Neal wouldn't have left without Mozzie. And if he had, he would have said goodbye. Not only to Mozzie but to June to.

Diana looked at the clock on the computer screen. The digital letters showed her that it was 1 minute past 9 am. Surprised she looked around at Peter's office. It was still empty. This was odd, because Peter had a tendency to come in at 7 am and leave at 9 pm. Something Diana wasn't very happy about. Just when she was thinking about calling him, Peter walked into the office. Diana looked him over. Lately Peter had looked tired and sad. On Mondays it was even worse. Diana knew why. Peter flew from New York to DC every couple of weeks and probably didn't sleep on the plane. Today on the other hand Peter looked well rested. He even smiled when he came into the office. That hadn't happened in a while. As Peter was settling in, Diana walked over to check on him.

'Morning boss, got stuck in traffic?' Peter looked up at her and smiled. 'Morning Diana. No, I had some unexpected company, which needed my attention.' Diana couldn't help but look surprised. _Could it be? Had Neal finally returned to New York? _If he had, she hoped he would have a good reason. And otherwise she looked forward to shooting him. 'El came home last night.' Peter went on. 'Apparently there is this new exhibit with famous artists and the national gallery asked her to see if there is anything interesting. Which means she will be staying in New York for about 3 weeks. That reminds me, El asked you over for dinner tomorrow.' Of course why hadn't she thought of that? It was well known that Peter had some sleeping problems. And normally El was there to help him with that, but with El in DC peter was all on his own. Having Elisabeth back in town would really do her boss some good. Because Peter was looking down at some papers, he hadn't seen her initial disappointment. Quickly she put up a Caffrey worthy smile. 'Really? That's great. You can finally get some real furniture. Theo and I love to come over for dinner tomorrow.' Peter nodded. 'Good. I will call El and tell her we have company.' Just when he reached for the phone it began ringing. 'Hello, special agent Peter Burke speaking.' Diana had never seen somebody get so white so quickly. It was like all the blood had drained form his face. Diana heard a woman's voice on the other end of the line. It sounded Italian. 'Boss what's wrong?' Finally Peter looked up at her, still listening to what was being said on the other end of the line. He tried to form a sentence, yet nothing came out. Clearing his trout, Peter tried again. 'Diana, get me a flied to Italië. They found Neal. They finally found him.'

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Out of all the placed Special Agent Peter had expected to be, Italië had certainly not been one of them. Yet 8 hours later Peter was walking in the main capital of Italië. After he had landed at the airport, Peter had taken a cab to the American embassy. The embassy was a tall building, with sand colored stones and high windows. The American flag moved silently at the top of the building. The first thing Peter noticed was the security. There were two men stationed in the guard house and a third one walked past the outer gate. Peter didn't need to guess who the extra security was for. The cab stopped in front of the tall building and Peter quickly paid the driver. Now that he was so close Peter wanted nothing more than to see Neal. Peter got out of the black sedan and walked to the trunk to get out his luggage. Not that he had taken much time to pack.

After he told Diana that they had found Neal, everything had gone by quickly. Diana had run to the bullpen instructing the agents to get in contact with Interpol and the Italian police. Meanwhile waking Peter out of his trance. He instructed the secretary to not call the police. He ensured her he was coming to Italië to handle the matter and that he did not want the prisoner moved. Also he warned her to double the guards just in case Neal ran again. His warning had not been ignored. Although he doubted that this was the secretary's work.

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Peter got his luggage out of the trunk and thanked the driver again. He never saw the man looking at him walking to the guards. Satisfied the man took another sip of his cigarette and then threw it out the window. _Nice to meet you agent Burke._ Smiling he drove off. The cigarette still burning on the ground.

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As Peter walked towards the house a large guy came towards him. 'Paul Gardner, head security guard. You must be agent Peter Burke. Nice to meet you, but honestly I wished it was under better circumstances. I was the one that found Neal at the gate. A few more moments and you would have needed to visit him in the hospital. Anyway, I will bring you to Neal right away. Also ambassador Corn would like a word, though he formulated it a bid different. Also the doctor will be back to check on Neal in an hour.' Peter frowned. He had a bad feeling about this ambassador. 'It's okay. If it is alright I will speak with the ambassador now.' Paul gave Peter a look. 'Better you then me. To be honest the ambassador doesn't like me very much, but then nor do I. I do have to warn you, he wasn't too happy about Caffrey staying here.' Peter nodded. He hadn't expected the ambassador to be happy about it. Most government types wouldn't have been happy. To be honest Peter couldn't think of one person who would have been happy about it. Nevertheless the way Corn had ordered him to have a word, made peter's skin crawl.

Paul guided Peter to the second floor, where they were greeted by young Italian woman. She was about 28 years old, peter guessed. Her brown hair was bound back in a ponytail and her green eyes looked curious at Peter. 'Hello Tosca. I think you already met…' Paul tried to say, but Tosca cut him through. 'We did, but not in person. Tosca Vargas.' She stood directly and offered him her hand. 'Nice to meet you miss Vargas. I would like to speak to Ambassador Corn, please.' Nodding Tosca walked around her desk. 'I'm going to guard Caffrey. Good luck.' Peter looked at Paul while he walked in the other direction. Turning Peter followed the young brunette trough a big hallway. It was filled with several paintings. Finally Peter got to the room in which Ambassador Corn had made his office. _Let's see what we have here. All or nothing._

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The first thing Neal noticed when he woke up was an electronic beeping. He knew that sound. It was the sound of an electronic heart monitor. The same one they had used in the Powell case. They had made the guy think his kidney was failing to get the account number of the illegal organs sales. In the end Peter en he had arrested the guy. Neal still remembered standing next to Peter waving with the fake badge. It felt like ages ago. One of the first cases he had worked with Peter and closed successfully.

Suddenly Neal realized what this meant. They had found him. He had been too late and they had found him. That was not the worst though. Neal hadn't finished the last painting. It should have been the master piece. _The one that had to be perfect._ That's why Neal had taken his time. Not working to slow, but also not working to fast. He remembered all too well, what would happen if he did not deliver perfect work. It was also the reason Neal had got the opportunity to run. After he was done with this painting they wouldn't need him anymore. A shiver ran through his body. They would punish him, he knew. Running meant that the guards had free range. _What would they do this time?_ Last time they had only twisted his ankle. Now they would surely break it.

Faintly Neal heard two people talking to each other. One of the voices sounded familiar, though Neal could not place it. As he thought about whom it could be, he heard the beeping increase speed. Of course he noticed that he was panicking, but it wouldn't stop. How badly he wanted it to. 'What's happening?' A voice asked, sounding worried. Neal knew that voice, but it couldn't be. It was impossible. _Get it together Caffrey. _'I think he is having a panic attack. He doesn't remember what happened and doesn't know that he is safe.' The other voice answered. It voice sounded old and had a very thick Italian accent. Suddenly Neal felt two fingers on his trout. His hand shot out en grabbed a slim wrist. He could feel the bones under his fingers. The man gave out a small cry, but did not move. He heard quick wrestling of clothes and footsteps coming closer. 'Neal?' The voice asked. The man tasted the name on his lips, like he hadn't used it for a long time. 'Neal. It's okay. You're okay. Wake up.' Then Neal knew it was Peter's voice. Trembling Neal shook his head. _No it couldn't be Peter. Peter wasn't in Italië. Was he? _'Neal, open your eyes damned.' _Well that did sound like Peter._ Neal prepared himself to be disappointed.

Neal knew what he would be seeing when he opened his eyes. He would be back in the warehouse. With big Will and snake man. The man in the cowboy boots would be standing at his bedside, shaking his head. He could keep them closed, pretend he was asleep again. _Too late._ Neal opened his eyes. First the world was blurry and then he saw the man on his left. It was an old, Italian man with a big mustache and short grey hair. 'Neal?' Quickly Neal turned his head to where the sound was coming from. Peter was standing on the right side of his bed, looking Neal over and calculating his state of mind. Blue eyes met worried brown ones. 'Neal?' Peter asked again. 'Could you let go of the good doctor? He was just trying to measure your heartbeat and he will need his hand.' Frowning Neal looked at the doctor again. He looked calm and worried, but also a little frightened. Quickly Neal let go and looked to Peter again. 'P…ter?' Neal frowned even harder. His voice had only been a whisper and Neal doubted that Peter had understood him. Yet Peter walked closer laying a hand on his arm. 'Yes, Neal. I'm here. You just rest okay. Everything is going to be okay. You're safe. I promise.' And for the first time in three months Neal knew that everything was going to be okay.

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Outside Ambassador Corn was walking on the sidewalk. He just had a conversation with agent Burke and he hated him. He had never met a man so ignorant, annoying and above all bossy. _What the hell was that guy thinking?_ _Telling him how to run an embassy._ Angry Corn kicked at a bottle left by a tourist. _Damn the FBI! No, damn Neal Caffrey. _Corn was so angry that he didn't even notice the black sedan until it drove right next to him. Looking left Corn started walking a little bit faster, which let the sedan to also increase speed. Suddenly Corn stopped dead in his tracks. 'What the hell do you want?!' He screamed turning towards the car. The window of the sedan rolled down and a man with a cigarette looked out. 'I think, ambassador, that you have a problem and that I might have the perfect solution.'


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors note **

**I just wanted to thank you guys again for reading my story and all the reviews. To answer a question that I got, I'm not an English native. I'm form the Netherlands, where it is always cold and rainy. :D. So, I hope you like this chapter and the Neal & Peter bromance. Please review and enjoy!**

**Also I just wanted to say R.I.P. James Rebhorn. You were amazing and we are really going to miss you.**

Chapter 4

Neal Caffrey had ben awake for an hour now, yet nobody had noticed he was actually awake. A couple of times people had come to check on him. Neal was really good at pretending to be asleep. Or at least he had become good at it. It had been the only time he could rest and had been left alone. For the past hour Neal had gone over the last day. It had been so unreal, like it hadn't happened at all. _I'm still there. I never escaped and they are going to wake me up soon. _Yet it had seemed real. Could it really be that Peter had come and saved him? Neal listened to his surroundings. Taking in every detail. He heard the Italian cars go by outside. Which meant there was an open window. _Strange, my room didn't have windows. At least none that I could reach or get open. _Yet this one was open and it was big too. Neal could feel a soft ray of sunshine on his face. It was nice to know there was a clear exit. He moved on. The heart monitor was still on. Neal could hear the steady beeping of his heart and the soft ventilation of the machine. Then there was this other sound. It had startled him at first, but now he recognized it. It was the brushing of paper.

Neal knew the sound very well. It was the sound Peter made while reading his newspapers during lunch breaks. Usually Neal would get coffee and food for the Harvard crew and they would eat it in the conference room. Most of them, including Neal, would talk. But not Peter. He started every lunch break with reading the sports section. This had annoyed Neal so much, that he couldn't help commenting. 'You shouldn't skip ahead you know. Normal people start at the front page and then work their way to back.' Peter didn't ever bother to look up from his newspaper. 'Also most of the important news items are at the front page.' Neal had continued. 'Why would I want to know what Justin Bieber has done this month? I have enough problems as it is.' Peter had answered. Neal had smirked at the time. 'It's called staying up to date. You know. Keeping an eye on what interests' people these days. It's also a good conversation starter, for the occasion you don't just want to talk about work. No wonder Elizabeth likes having me around. I have other things to talk about then work.' This had earned him a dark look form Peter and a newspaper thrown at his head. The newspaper missed him though. 'And you played baseball, really…' He was saying when another newspaper hit him square in the face. Apparently it had looked really funny, because the Harvard crew started laughing. Even peter couldn't hold it together. Neal had shrugged his shoulders and smiled. It had been a long time ago. Neal had been happy then, even though he hadn't known it himself. Then the trouble had started with his dad and senator Pratt. Everything had changed after that.

Neal heard a muffled grunt and some shuffling. It was about the fifth time in short notice he had heard that sound. A smile creeped on his face. Peter always did that when he was uncomfortable and had sat in the same place for a long time. 'If you are going to pretend being a sleep all day, the least you can do is not laugh at me.' Neal turned his head in Peter's direction and opened his eyes. Peter was seated near the window on an old chair. The chair did not look comfortable at all. Neal smiled again. 'Well, I can try not to. But you're making it kind of hard.' Peter stood up from his chair and placed it next to Neal. Looking him over at the same time. It made Neal feel really uneasy, like he was fragile or something. _But that could very well be the truth_.

'So, what's the verdict?' He asked. _Best to get it out of the way directly._ His question made Peter look even more uncomfortable. '3 broken ribs, 1 bruised, a pretty bad concussion, an infection at your left ankle, a dislocated shoulder and bruises all over your body.' He summed up. Neal nodded. He had expected as much. They had always told him exactly what they were going to do. It had been part of the punishment. 'Strangely they never touched your hands or face.' Peter continued, while looking at Neal's reaction. Neal knew why they never had touched his face or hands. They had needed those. _What artist could make a perfect copy without their hands or eyes?_ When Neal didn't react Peter placed a hand on his arm. Startled Neal looked at Peter. Peter frowned and held his head slightly sideways. Neal looked down at his lap. He wasn't ready to talk about what happened yet. Silently he prayed that Peter wouldn't ask.

'Neal, I know you don't want to talk about what happened.' Neal's head snapped up. 'Yes, I know what you are thinking. And Neal I just wanted to tell you that you can talk to me. You know... about what happened. I know that I'm not good at… this… But I'm willing to listen. I know you're not ready now, but when you are you can come to me.' The room suddenly felt a lot safer. Neal knew Peter hated these kinds of conversations. Neal had no doubt Peter had practiced this speech with Elizabeth, but still it was nice to hear. It had been the first kind words anybody had said to him in months. And knowing Peter would be there for him meant a lot. More than Peter would ever understand. 'Thank you Peter. Truly thank you.' Peter nodded and padded him on the arm. 'One condition though.' Neal looked surprised at Peter and raised an eyebrow. 'No crying.' Neal couldn't help but laugh. If there was one thing Peter hated, it was crying. Especially woman. But men would be even worse. Woman you could hug or you could let them cry on your shoulder.

Men though. Neal imagined Peter would just tell him to cowboy up.

'No crying, I promise. So how are things back home?' It was one of the things that had really kept him going. Even though the FBI probably thought he had run, they still would have looked for him. Moz had definitely gone crazy, thinking of alien abductions and government conspiracies. June would have been worried even more, but had remained calm knowing he was coming back some day. It was kind of scary to ask for the truth so directly, but it had to be done. Better to get it over with quick. Neal put on one of his con man smiles as he waited for Peter to answer.

'Well. El got the job in DC so she moved there.' It did not escape Neal's notice that Peter had said "she moved". He didn't interrupt though. He saw Peter didn't want to talk about it, yet. Probably the reason was, because he had run. 'Diana and Teddy are doing well. He just rolled over for the first time. June also babysits from time to time. Teddy loves her.' That didn't surprise Neal at all. Everybody loved June. 'Teddy huh, I thought it was Theo?' Neal grinned, when Peter grunted. 'Yeah, Mozzie has a bad influence.' At that Neal looked worried. He was always worried about Moz. They were like brothers. And Mozzie was the best friend Neal had ever had. Loyal to the core. 'How is Moz?' Peter looked sad at Neal. 'Honestly, I don't know. I haven't spoken him in months. After you ra… disappeared he was lost. We all where. Nobody knew where you were. It was like you vanished into thin air. Mozzie flushed out every street contact he had to find you, but nobody knew anything. So Mozzie started looking elsewhere. Everywhere. He never believed that you ran. Not for one second. He blamed me for what had happened. Believed, it was one of the criminals we put away. Or that it was one corrupt agent. He even considered Fowler and Kramer. Not long after that we had a falling out. He left and since then he hasn't come by. El called him a couple of times. But he wouldn't even talk to her.' Neal nodded. That had been his worst fear. Well that and dying.

'I wouldn't though... Run… You know? Not without him. Peter really I didn't run. I wanted to. I planned to. But even before I made arrangements they took me.' He looked at Peter. Pleading for him to believe. Peter stood and started walking towards the window. Hands in his pocket. Slightly hopping form one foot to the other. ' Neal, I…' Then suddenly a phone started ringing. Both of them jumped. Peter quickly walked over to his phone. "Number unknown." Taking a breath Peter answered the phone. 'Special Agent Peter Burke.'

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Ambassador Corn felt uneasy. The car he was in had been driving around for half an hour now. Yet he had no idea where he was going. The man with the cigarette had told him to take the backseat and enjoy the ride. Which was a pretty odd request. Still Corn had odder requests. Silently giggling he thought of Star. Suddenly the black sedan stopped. Corn took a look at the black windows. He could hear the front door slapping shut and two men talking. Now he really was starting to feel uneasy. Ambassador Corn was good at making people do things. But he was alone and apparently the cigarette man was not. He looked the windows again, trying to see the men outside. There was something of about these guys. Corn had always been cunning, but in a non-valiant way. These men on the other hand were serious trouble.

Suddenly the door opened and then he felt the wet pavement on his cheek. Blinking Corn turned to see he had been thrown out of the car. Next to him was a man the size of a building. _Or I could be lying on the ground._ Leaning against the rear of the car was the man with the cigarette. 'Good of you to join us ambassador.' Corn turned as quickly as he could. The first thing he saw where cowboy boots. He slowly got up and took another look. The man was dressed in jeans and a blouse.

' I will be with you in a moment,' He said with a cold voice. Just then Corn saw him. The man was lying across the pavement floor. Blood smeared all over his face and body. His left leg lying in a strange place beside him. He also had a big gash at the back of his head. He had his hands protective over his stomach and was crying uncontrollably. The cowboy walked towards him walked towards him slowly, getting a gun out of his jacket. 'So again. Why did he escape?' 'Because I … wasn't… paying attention… But I… I… When I checked… he was… still there… Auwww…' a big man on the other side had kicked him in de side. 'You have failed me, Thomas. And I cannot tolerate failure.' Talking one last look at Thomas, the cowboy pointed his gun and…

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'Special Agent Peter Burke.' It stayed silent for so long that Peter was sure the caller had hung up. 'Hello?' 'It's a dark day when I have to turn to the FBI for information, Suit. It's even darker when you have the lady Suit call, to tell me that you found Neal.' Peter smiled. _Of course. _'Mozzie.' At that Neal looked up from his position at the bed. Silently raising an eyebrow and mouthing to put the phone on speaker. Peter nodded in agreement and put the cell on the nightstand. Mozzie's voice came echoing through the mechanical speakers. 'Honestly Suit, I expected more from you. I mean have I not helped your pursuit of the small criminals in this city. Did my help not earn me some trust and credit. Of course not, I'm a master criminal. How exactly did you mange before Neal and I came along. No, wonder you had such a low crime rate. But that's not the point. I have to hear from the lady Suit that Neal was arrested in Italië. If he is in one of those prisons there, I swear I will come and break him out right now. I knew we couldn't trust you. All Suits are the same. This was a government conspiracy. Was it not? I told Neal not to trust Suits. Now see where it got him…' Peter was quite surprised. He had known Mozzie believed in conspiracy theories, but he had never heard him talk this much. Meanwhile Mozzie was still ranting about conspiracies. Peter tried to cut in several times, every time being ignored. Desperate he looked at Neal.

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Neal on the other hand looked quite chipper. He was trying very hard not to laugh out loud. Neal was very good at pushing Peter's buttons. Yet Mozzie had another way of pushing Peter's buttons, which was even more effective. He decided to let Peter hang just a bid longer. Neal guessed that Peter hadn't been tested much in the last three months. Well that was definitely going to change. In the meantime Mozzie had started with alien abductions. Neal decided that it was time to safe Peter. 'Aliens, Moz? Really? Have you been watching E.T. again?' Mozzie stopped so suddenly that Neal feared he had a heart attack. 'Neal?' Neal smiled. 'Hey Moz.'

'Neal! How are you? Where you listening all this time? Is it safe? There aren't any aliens are there?' Neal shook his head. Mozzie had been on his own for too long. 'Moz.' Neal tried. But Mozzie continued. It surprised Neal that he didn't stumble over the words. Honestly he was even more surprised that he could actually still follow it. In his chair Peter started to chuckle. Neal shot him a dark look and tried the harder approach. 'MOZ!' Finally Mozzie stopped talking. Neal could hear the phone drop to the ground. He decided not to mention it. 'So, Italië?' Mozzie continued after picking up the phone.

'Yeah, well you know me. Always the renaissance men. The bread baskets are fantastic though. I'm sorry about taking an early flied. Believe me it was not willingly,' Neal said. Bread basket was the safe word Mozzie had come up with. According to Mozzie a safe word needed to contain two words, because safe word also consisted out of two words. Early flied was another code. It meant that the other had to run early without telling anybody. Neal took a quick look at Peter. Peter raised an eyebrow and mouthed "bread basket?" Neal shrugged his shoulders. 'Well, I must say that the bread baskets here are not so bad either. Though Estelle and I did wonder about the early flied.' "Guess you and Estelle took a dive into my wine collection?' 'No of course we didn't. But Estelle and I did agree you and June have an excellent taste.' Neal shook his head. 'Really, I think I have to get some more when I'm back then…' While talking to Mozzie, Neal had totally forgotten the broken ribs. As he tried to move into a more comfortable position a flare of pain shot though his body. 'Neal?' Mozzie asked concerned. 'It's nothing. Don't worry about it.' Though it did not sound convincing, even in his ears. _I'm losing my touch. _'You know Mozzie I think it is time for Neal to rest. I will call you back later.' And without further argument Peter disconnected the phone.

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Just two blocks from the American embassy Ambassador Corn got out of the black sedan. Shaking he stood there. He looked at the cars going by. His eyes not really looking. All he saw was Thomas on the ground, blood coming out of head. Dead eyes staring into Corns soul. Distracted he ran his hand through his hair, meanwhile smearing the blood over his face. Blinking once more Corn started walking. Silently repeating one sentence. _What have I done…?_


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors note **

**Omg! I'm so so so sorry for not updating sooner. I had a monster month on school. Anyway I have vacation now, so I will start updating regularly. So I just wanted to thank you guys again for reading my story and all the reviews. I also want to thank you for waiting so long for this chapter. I hope this it won't disappoint. Please review and enjoy!**

Chapter 5

It was quiet in the guest area of the American embassy in Rome. It was a beautiful day and the sun shined through the large windows. The flowers on the terrace where flowering and the birds where singing. This al could be heard through one open window. Special Agent Peter Burke slowly stood from is place next to Neal's bed. When Peter had hung up on Mozzie, he and Neal had talked about home. Mainly about Diana and Teddy. How Diana had scared away the last nanny by doing a FBI checkup. And how June had told her about the times she had to babysit her granddaughters. This had eventually led to Diana asking June to look after Teddy. They also talked about Jones. How he had met up with an old college and how they were now dating. And then there was the Sara conversation. Peter knew how hard breaking up with Sara had been. But he felt Neal deserved to know how she was doing. Peter had talked to Sara a few days ago. She had called to ask him for a favor. Apparently she had found a connection to a car and her sister. Neal had nodded and asked how she liked Great Britain. Peter has told him that she enjoyed living in London. She had a lovely apartment and a new car to go with it. In the meantime the talking was taking its toll on Neal. And after a lot of encouragement and arguing Neal had finally fallen asleep.

Picking his phone out of his pocket Peter started walking towards the door. Fifth teen minutes ago the guards had switched shifts. Now Paul Gardner was standing at the left side of the door. 'I'm going to make a phone call and grab a coffee, okay?' Peter whispered. He didn't want to disturb Neal. 'I will take care of him. You go grab that coffee. Maybe you should eat something to, huh? Marie is still downstairs. She can make you something.' Peter smiled. He liked the guard. The man actually cared and Peter was sure nobody would touch Neal when Gardner was near. _Maybe I can call Hughs. He might have a job for him. _

At the other side of the door Peter sighed. 'Everything in order?' Peter looked up at a green-eyed woman. She was standing near the window with a cup of coffee in her hand. She had her dark hair in a ponytail and was wearing a green dress. At the sight of Peter she quickly moved back to her desk and put the coffee down. 'Everything is just fine. Thank you.' She nodded and quickly organized some things on her desk. 'I also would like to thank you for calling the doctor. Gardner told me it was your idea.' The secretary looked up with a smile. 'Not a problem at all. I'm just glad we were there to help him. I mean when Paul came in with him… It was just… It was… Well, it was obvious that Mister Caffrey needed a doctor. So I did what was right and then I called you. Of course I should have told ambassador Corn first, but it seemed more important to tell the FBI that we had found there fugitive. After that I told Ambassador Corn your advice and instructed the guards off the new safety measures. Never the less I hope Mister Caffrey will feel better soon. He seemed like a very nice and intelligent man.' Peter blinked. The secretary had just told him everything he needed to know about the events of last night from her perspective. Also acknowledging her disobedience, but not accusing the ambassador of any wrong doing. Peter couldn't help thinking that she would make a far better ambassador than Corn. Searching for words Peter walked over to the desk. As he did he noticed the dark circles under her eyes. _She probably had been up all night calling people, instructing them._ Suddenly Peter knew she was running the embassy. Maybe Corn was the outside person. But in here she was the boss. 'You did good today. And if it was up to me I would be promoting you.' At that the secretary smiled. Nodding Peter walked away and dialed his home number.

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Getting through the gate unseen was ambassador Corns the first obstacle. The guards would come running at the sight of him. Then they would ask questions. Questions he couldn't answer. And then there was the FBI agent. He would ask questions too. Corn swallowed. _Why did I go inside? Why? _Corn knew why. He had been stupid. He had let his emotions get the best of him and had done something impulsive. Corn had always hated such people. His father had always asked him, 'Do you have a brain?' Corn had always nodded. 'Then use it.' Words to live by. Yet he had forgotten them and now he had to pay the price.

Walking towards a fountain Corn thought back of the warehouse. 'You have failed me, Thomas. And I cannot tolerate failure.' The man had taken one last look at Thomas and then pulled the trigger. The sound of the shot rang in his ears. Yet corn didn't make a sound. The man looked at is gun and recharged it. Then he put it back in his holster. 'Well that is that. So where were we?' Corn didn't answer. It was like his voice had left him. 'Have I introduced myself yet?' the man did not wait for an answer. 'No, I do not think so. Very well. My name is John Whitehall. And these are my associates big Will, Mister McLow and of course Thomas. Well he was, now he is not anymore of course. Would you please join me to the other room, I don't like dead bodies.' Corn looked at Mr. Whitehall and tried standing up. But his body wouldn't move. It was like it had frozen in place. Apparently Mr. Whitehall seemed to notice that the ambassador could not get up. 'Could you be so kind as to help the ambassador to the other room?' Not waiting for an answer he walked towards a door on the left.

Finally Corns body moved and he quickly got to his feet. Big Will smiled and followed him to the room. Corn was trying to figure out, who this man was. Because his dad was also an ambassador Corn had heard many languages. Mr. Whitehall spoke in a British way, yet his accent was definitely American. Also the way he walked was American. Corn guest he was from Texas, mainly because of the shoes. 'So I guess you are wondering why you are here?' Corn felt very uneasy as Mr. Whitehall's cold eyes looked him over. 'Ehh…' Corn cleared his trout and started again. 'The thought did cross my mind, yes.' Mr. Whitehall nodded in agreement. 'Well you see, you have something I want. Or more like something I lost. And I would really like it back. As in I need it back. You see he made a promise and didn't keep it. I hate it when people break promises. Like poor Thomas. That had not been necessary, if he had kept his promise. Do you keep your promises Ambassador?' Corn felt the blood draining from his face. He was sweating and his tie seemed to strangle him. _I could say no. _But if he did, he would be dead in a minute. _But if I do say yes and fail I will also be dead. Only later. _There was no good choice. It was like all his wits had left him. 'I try to.' He said hoping it was good enough. Mr. Whitehall smiled. Not a real smile though. 'Come now. You are an intelligent man. You know that's not a real answer to the question. Either you do or you don't. It's that simple. So I will ask again. Do you keep your promises?'

Shivering Corn waded into the fountain. Even though the sun was shining Corn felt cold. He took shallow breaths and held his body. Slowly he began washing of the blood. Still he got the feeling he would never be clean again.

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'Hello, Elizabeth Burke speaking.' Peter smiled at hearing his wife's voice. 'Hey hun, it's me.' 'Hey, so how is Italië?'

El knew Peter was in Italië. After he had told Diana to get him a plane ticket to Italië, she had suggested that he should call El first. In the cab to the airport he had called her and told her they had found Neal. It had been so quiet on the other end of the line. Peter knew his wife well enough to know she was thinking. She wanted to formulate something so that she could be supportive of whatever he was going to say. 'Are you going to get him back?' It was an innocent question, but Peter could read between the lines. What she really was asking if he was going to get him back home or arrest him. Peter sighed. He and Neal had not been on the best of turns lately. Peter still could not forget that Neal had faked his father's testimony. But he knew why Neal had done it. And even though Neal had done some stupid things he had changed. Peter had helped Neal with his early release. He hoped to Neal would see he appreciated him. Also he had seen how happy Neal was with the prospect of not having his anklet. Of course that had backfired too. So Peter had decided to stay behind. To help Neal trough his last years. 'I'm going to bring him home.'

He had told El, Neal had been found in Italië. Peter had tried to hide Neal's injuries, but he could never keep anything from her. When she heard Neal had been injured, she demanded to be updated every day. They had also practiced what Peter was going to say to Neal. 'You have to be considerate. He has been through a lot and he needs to know that you are going to be there for him. He is not in one of your interrogation rooms. And don't you talk to him, like he is. Ow and don't you dare tell him to cowboy up mister.' Peter couldn't help but smile. He knew he was terrible in comforting conversations and was always in interrogation mode. And if El hadn't told him not to say cowboy up he probably would have said it. That's what made Peter love is wife even more. She was so considerate and always knew what to say. Then Peter had arrived on the airport and had hung up.

'It's beautiful. I think you would love it here. There are beautiful buildings and the paintings in the embassy are amazing. Also the weather is nice. The sun is shining and it's around 27 degrees.' 'Hmmm… Sounds like we know our knew vacation spot. So, how are you dealing with this?' She sounded unsure. Like she wanted to know really bad, but on the other end feared the answer. Peter sighed. 'Not too good. It was terrible, El. At first I thought I was too late. He looked so pale and he is thin. It looks like he got one meal per day. It scared me seeing him like that. He is connected to a heart monitor and it gives me the creeps. But it was also comforting. I could see that his heart was still beating. He has a lot of injuries. But I'm more worried about the emotional damage. The first moment he woke up he looked terrified. I have never seen Neal look so scared. When he realized what was happening he started pulling up his mask. But even now there are cracks. And I don't know... I want to help him, but I don't know how...' Peter felt a little out of breath after this speech. He had kept his feelings form Neal, because he didn't want Neal to see how worried he really was. 'I think you are doing exactly what Neal needs. You have to give him some space. Neal has dealt with traumas before. He just needs a little time to think about what he is going to say. He knows you are there for him, we all are. But he is used to deal with things allone. He just needs a little time to accept he might need help. Don't worry hun. He is okay. He is alive and you found him. You are the best friend Neal could have and I love you.' Peter took a deep breath and smiled. 'I love you too.'

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The first thing Neal noticed was that there was a different person in the chair next to his bed. Peter had disappeared. Next to him sat a big man of 45, with grey eyes and black hair with a hint of grey. Then Neal remembered this was the guard that found him, Paul Gardner. Neal liked the man. He had a feeling Paul had a lack for rules and did not like to be told what to do. At least not by men that did not respect him. Paul was reading a newspaper. Neal couldn't help but chuckle. 'I hope you did read the front page.' Paul who was reading the sports section looked up. He had a surprised look on his face. 'Why would anyone not read the front page. I'm mean. They make them for a reason you know. It's like reading a book and starting at the end. People who don't read the front are stupid.' With this comment Neal started laughing, earning him a confused look from the guard.

'I totally agree. You see Peter only reads the sports section. I'm trying to change that, but I had no luck so far.' 'Peter eh… You two on a first name basis?' The comment surprised Neal. Paul was smarter than he looked. And apparently he had observed them. 'He is my partner... I mean, I'm his consultant.' 'You two are friends.' It was not a question but a statement. 'You could say that.' Paul nodded and then looked at Neal again. 'Can I give you some advice?' Neal appreciated the question. Paul did not want to impose and gave Neal the choice to say no. 'Of course' 'Talk to somebody.' That took Neal of guard. Quickly he pulled up his mask to hide his first shock. 'I don't mean now, but please don't keep it all in. I know what that does to a person and believe me you don't want to find out. And I know I sound like Dr. Phil. But it does help. Believe me I know.' He gave Neal a meaning full look. Neal didn't doubt for a second that Paul had seen some terrible things. At the moment he could not think about telling anyone what he had been through, but that was not what Paul had asked of him. He had asked if he would eventually tell someone. Even though opening up was not in Neal's nature, he knew that Paul was right. 'I will.' Paul nodded in understanding and smiled. Then Peter came in with a cup of coffee and another newspaper. Both Neal and Paul started laughing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Authors note**

**I wanted to thank you guys for following my story. It inspirers me to go on. I hope you also enjoy this chapter. Again thank you for waiting for this chapter. And a special thanks to all my reviewers. You guys are a big help and way to sweet. Thanks again. Please review and enjoy!**

Chapter 6

Neal Caffrey smiled, as he watched his partner take the empty seat on the left side of the room. He could see Peter was annoyed. This was probably caused by him and Paul laughing. Even though Peter had said he wasn't going to ask anything yet, Neal could see he was wondering. Neal felt like a puzzle, a puzzle Peter desperately wanted to solve. Neal sighed. He knew Peter was going to ask eventually. So why not beat him to it. At least that way he could control what information Peter got. Peter had to wait a little while longer though, because it wasn't looking like Paul was going to leave. Neal decided he should practice his talents.

'So Paul, where are you from?' Paul looked up from his newspaper. Neal smiled and raised an eyebrow. Apparently Neal's look convinced the older guard he was not going to get a chance to read again, so he put down his newspaper and turned to face Neal. 'Well I was born in Manhattan, but my dad had to go to L.A. So that's where I grew up.' Neal nodded. 'Your dad was a bodyguard.' It wasn't a question. While working for Vincent Adler Neal had seen plenty of bodyguards. He had always admired their loyalty and of course there muscles. Neal could see Peter glance at him. _Show off_. Neal couldn't help but smile, though he kept his face straight. Annoying Peter was so easy. Paul nodded. 'Very good. Yes, my dad was a bodyguard. And it was because his client moved, that we went to L.A.' 'So you followed his footsteps?' Paul started laughing at that. 'Well, yes and no. You see my dad was good at his job. I however. Well I never have been very confident about my capabilities. So that's why I started working in the security business.' Neal nodded. He could understand that thought. Before Ellen had told him about his dad, Neal had never thought he could be a great cop. Not like his dad or Ellen. He knew for sure he was going to screw up, but had decided that he was at least going to try.

Listening to Paul Neal knew he would have been just as good. The way Paul had helped him proved his point for him. 'So how did you end up here?' Now they were getting somewhere. Paul had paled slightly at that question. Neal could see Peter was paying close attention too. Though he pretended to be very busy with his newspaper. In the meantime Paul had remained quiet. Neal was wondering if he maybe should step in, when Paul started talking again. 'Sometimes you try your best, but still things don't work out. Or at least not in the way you want. There was an armed robbery in the bank I worked in. I informed the police and kept the hostages save. Nothing big. But the bank rewarded me with this post. The head guard here was going to retire and they needed someone with a lot of experience. So here I am.' Paul made it sound so simple, but Neal did not believe that for a second. 'Sounds pretty heroic to me. Yet you don't sound so happy.' Paul smiled at him. 'You don't miss much do you? No, I'm glad to have a job and a promotion. But Italië and I are not made for each other. We can work together, but that's it.' Neal nodded in understanding. 'No place like home, right?' Paul studied him for a while. Neal but up his best Caffrey smile and looked back. 'I believe you do know. Anyway I really should go and check up on the other guards. Maybe Tosca hasn't eaten yet.' Neal chuckled. Paul had finally noticed that Peter was still in the room and was waiting for a privet conversation. 'A man has to do what a man's has to do.' Paul laughed and then walked out the room. Looking at the closed-door Neal took a deep breath. _Time to get into character._

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Special agent Peter Burke was annoyed. After his conversation with Elizabeth Peter had gone to the kitchen. As he entered a large black-haired woman was shouting at a young girl. Even though the girl was taller, she looked terrified. Peter guessed it had something to do with the big spoon she was waving around. 'Ehm…' Suddenly the two women noticed they were not alone anymore. 'Yes? What can I do for you?' The black-haired woman asked him. She had a thick Italian accent. The young woman took the opportunity to put a table between herself and the black-haired woman. _Which was not a bad idea._ 'I was wondering if I could get a cup of coffee?' Shifting uncomfortably Peter glanced at the coffee pot. If his nose was correct it contained Italian roost. Peter would never admit it, but Neal was right about his coffee addiction. The black-haired woman turned to around. 'Valentina! Make this agent some coffee. Rapido.' Quickly Valentina ran to the coffee machine and got a cup out of the closet.

After getting his coffee Peter returned to Neal's room. Finding him and the guard talking, but as he entered both men started laughing. Though Peter got the feeling they were laughing at him. Quietly he placed himself in the only seat left in the room. Gardner had taken his seat and was now talking to Neal. Peter didn't mind though, this way he could check on Neal. Neal's appearance still made Peter uncomfortable. Neal wore a sling around his left shoulder. His left ankle peeked out from under the blanket. The flesh around the scratches was red and looked quite painful. Peter guessed it would leave a couple of scars. Neal wouldn't be happy about that. He still was angry that his gunshot wound had left a scar.

Yet Peter was more worried about Neal's internal scars. He looked better than when Peter had left. Of course Neal had slept at the time, so that might have been a reason. But now Neal was having an interesting conversation with the guard that had brought him in. of course Neal had to show off his observations skills. Peter smiled. This was the Neal he knew, worked with and the one he had caught. Yet Peter knew Neal still wasn't his old self. He put up one hell of a con, but still looked fragile. His eyes kept darting towards the open window. His left hand was resting on the middle of his chest. Probably to keep his heart rate low. And then there was his acting. Normally Neal knew exactly how the body reacted to certain emotions. This time on the other hand only his mouth and eyes joined, but the rest was left behind. And even those were not entirely convincing.

Peter sighed. He wanted to know what had happened to Neal. Neal had said he was planning on running, but this had not been part of the plan. Peter couldn't help but think about the time Neal first woke up. He had looked terrified. El had said to give Neal some time. Peter wanted to give Neal as much time as he needed, but there were limits. Neal needed to give a statement, as soon as possible. Apparently the guard had noticed Peter was in the room to and decided to get going. As Paul Gardner walked out the door, Peter took his seat and looked at Neal. _Time for a talk._

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Ambassador Corn was taking the longest shower in his life. Corn had always been the man with the plan. But today he was out of ideas. He had been lucky to ever get in the embassy. One of his own guards had found him. He had brought Corn in unseen. When he was safely inside his room, Corn had sent the guard to look at Neal Caffrey. Yet the bastard had not been alone. The FBI agent was still with him. So Corn had told the guard to keep an eye on them. As soon as Neal was alone Corn wanted to be notified. Washing away the blood spatters Corn thought about what he had to do.

After Mr. Whitehall had asked if he kept his word Corn knew he could only answer yes. Mr. Whitehall had seemed pleased at that answer. 'Very good. You see I have a very important job for you. Mr. Caffrey went away before he finished his work. I need him to finish it. Otherwise I will not be able to fulfill my plans. Now I know this place is compromised. So I have taken his work to another location in America. You see, I know Neal is going to be cleared for travel tomorrow. I need you to get him in my privet jet.' Ambassador Corn felt the blood drawn from his face. That was impossible. Neal would be guarded and there would be a follow-up car. And then there was of course the special agent. 'But… How…' As he tried to find the words Mr. Whitehall took another sip of his tea. 'Well that is for you to find out. You will get the meeting place tomorrow. Just get yourself a car to drive him there.' Mr. Whitehall stopped drinking and gave Corn a cold look. Corn felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand. 'Do you understand?' _This is your chance. Back out now!_ But Corn ignored the thought. It was too late now. Corn nodded. Mr. Whitehall smiled. Not a legit smile, but a cold evil one. 'Good. Very well. Now to prove your loyalty I like you to help Will here with dear Thomas. You see he is not as strong as he looks.'

Corn shivered even though the water was hot. It had been disgusting, but that was the least of his problems now. He needed a plan to get Caffrey on to that plane. The car was not an option. The FBI agent would be right beside Neal. Besides Corn didn't want to involve too many people. The walk to the cars wasn't an option either. Too many guards. Then it hit him. there was another option. As Corn turned the water of a smile crept on his face. _Maybe everything was going to be just fine._

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Neal felt Peter's eyes burning on his shoulder. Peter was trying to figure out how to start the conversation without being an interrogator. Neal sighed and then looked at the window. From the corner of his eye he could see Peter frowning. 'Could you open the window?' When he was sleeping somebody had closet the window. Probably because they were afraid he might escape through there. Peter looked confused and turned around towards the window. Then he stood up and started fiddling with the lock. 'After we arrested Rachel I noticed somebody following me. First I thought it might have been the FBI. You know, making sure I wasn't working together with her. But the FBI wasn't that good at following me and they are not that obvious. I mean this guy was just sitting on a park bench. After you told me my request was denied, I called Mozzie. We met up in the park and there we talked about what to do next.' Peter raised his eyebrow at that. 'More like talk about what you were going to sell.' Neal made a face at that. Sometimes he forgot how smart Peter really was. So Neal put up an innocent smile and said, 'What makes you think I still have things to sell?' 'Because the FBI does not pay you that much and you still have luxury.' Neal smiled, of course Peter had noticed. How could he not. Neal loved the finer things in life, though he could very well live without them.

'When Mozzie left I noticed a man sitting on a park bench. He was just sitting there, with a newspaper. Like nothing was the matter. The fact that he was there meant he wasn't scared to be seen. So I walked over. I asked him why he was following me.' But before he could continue, Peter called out. Just like he had predicted. 'Are you insane? Neal what were you thinking! You really are an impulsive child. Think before you do something Neal. I told you, I told you!' Neal knew that he was too impulsive. But his impulses had often saved a case. Yet he knew Peter was just worried. And he hated to repeat himself. 'Yes, Jimmy Burger is definitely going to be my new alias.' Instead of easing the situation Peter only got angrier. 'Damn it Neal. This isn't a game. You could have died. You almost did die. I thought you had died.' Peter stopped himself and stood from his seat. Neal watched Peter pace around the room. After taking a couple of deep breaths he sat down again. 'So you asked why he was following you?' Glad that he could move on with his story. 'He told me this was going to be the last time anybody ever saw me. And then two men came up from behind me. They pulled a black hood over my head. I was dragged to a black car. The only thing I could see was the floor. They pushed me to the ground and held me there. As soon as the car started moving I felt a pain in my left leg. That's when I realized they were cutting my anklet. Believe me the irony of that did not escape me. I was stripped of my cell and wallet. And then we drove around for about an hour.' Neal paused for a second to pick up his water. He could see Peter was burning with questions, but he kept quiet. Neal guessed this was what El had learned him. 'Peter listen to a person. Just listen. Don't talk, don't ask questions. They have to feel comfortable and you must have patience.' Yes, exactly how El would have said it.

'Then the car stopped. I could hear cars driving in the distance. A couple of men were talking outside. I think I heard the name Rachel, but I don't know. And something about a master piece. Then they pulled the car door open en threw me out. Before I could stand up again, they grabbed my shoulders and started dragging me. I could hear the cylinders of a plane and then I tripped over the stairs. When I was finally inside, they tied my hands together and pushed me in a seat. Apparently they knew me pretty well, because they used tape instead of handcuffs. And then I waited. Nobody talked to me. I still had the hood on. It seemed like I was the only one in the room. But I could hear them breathing in the background. Somewhere along the line I must have dozed off.' That had not been a pleasant trip. Honestly Neal figured he had passed out, because of the lack of oxygen. But Peter didn't have to know that. Neal took another sip of water. 'When I woke up, my hood was gone and I could see the Italian skyline from my window. On the other side was the same man who approached me in the park. He made me think of Adler. He had the same look.' Neal laughed. Not a real laugh, but a hard and bitter one. 'In the end he turned out to be just as crazy. Probably even more dangerous. I mean it didn't take me long to realize he meant serious business. And then I noticed the gun in his hands. That moment I was sure I was going to die.'


	7. Chapter 7

**Authors note**

**Hellooo, I'm back. Sorry for the long wait. I was on holiday and then school started again. But I finally found the time. I hope it was worth the wait. Thank you guys again for following, reviewing and reading in general. I hope you also enjoy this chapter. Again thank you for waiting for this chapter. Please review and enjoy!**

**Ps: O and don't forget. 6 November is the day! White Collar is coming back! So excited! :D**

Chapter 7

Special Agent Peter Burke was angry. Just as Neal was finally expressing his feelings the doctor had come in to check him over. Peter had seen the relief on Neal's face. Honestly that look had scared him. Neal had always had a strong personality. The only time Peter had seen Neal break was when Kate had died. But like always Neal had bounced back. This time Peter wasn't too sure about that. It felt different. Neal could hide his feelings for Kate. Less then he thought, but still hide them. This time on the other hand, his pain was visible. You could see the bruises. And judging by those Neal had been beaten, many times. Neal could take a hit when he needed to, but his main instinct was running. He conned himself out of trouble, but when someone hits you, there is no conning out of it.

The doctor was taking his sweet time and Peter got more frustrated. In the meantime the doctor was asking Neal a million questions, most of which peter wasn't really interested. Sighing he stood and started pacing around the room. 'How is your pain level?' The doctor was asking in a very thick Italian accent. 'Not too bad.' Neal answered smiling. _Of course Neal was going to say that. _Neal did almost anything to avoid drugs. Peter smiled. Drugs had a very funny effect on Neal. His normal façade didn't seem to hold up. Instead Neal showed his real feelings. Actually it was something Peter could really use right now. The side effect was that if Neal got too much drugs, he wasn't lucid at all. Frowning Peter took a decision. 'He is lying. His pain level is probably a seven right now. Every time he switches position he pulls a face. O and he took out his IV.' Neal shot him a dark look. Peter couldn't help, but grin. He had noticed it when he was observing Neal and Paul. The doctor on the other hand was not amused. He got a red face and started ranting in Italian. At which Neal made another face.

While the doctor was setting another IV, Peter sat down again. 'Okay, you need to leave this in Mr. Caffrey. It will help you with the pain, but also with the dehydration. Also I did a basic checkup and I must conclude that you are going to be just fine. Of course you need to see another doctor in America, but I see no trouble in your recovery. You will have to keep the sling on for a while, but I don't see why you cannot travel. I will come by again tomorrow to take out the IV. Good day.' He smiled and turned away from Neal. Peter nodded and mumbled a goodbye. That was first good news he had gotten since he came here. It meant that he could finally take Neal home. Something felt off about this place and Peter couldn't quite place his fingers on what it was. Peter wanted to go home. Back to New York. At least there he would have Diana and jones to back up, but mostly he would have El. El would know how to fix this. She could help Neal, even better than he could.

As the doctor left Neal moved into another position. 'So, then there was that. Nice man, don't you think?' Peter smiled. He could hear the sarcasm in Neal's voice. 'Yes, he said some nice things about you I think. Not that I would know.' Peter had never been to Italië nor had learned to speak the language, but he knew Neal had been to Italië a couple of times. And that he spoke the language very well. 'Very nice. The names he called me were very original. Though I was disappointed by his lack of style. I mean to…' Peter crushed his teeth. He really wanted to hear the rest of the story, not who was important in the fashion world.

Suddenly Neal asked an unexpected question. 'So El went to D.C.'. It was not a question. More like a conclusion. Apparently Neal had noticed his slip from earlier. 'Yes, well. It wasn't fair of me to put her career behind mine.' Frowning slightly Neal shifted into another position. Peter could see that Neal was trying to formulate something. Suddenly it hit him. Neal didn't know Peter was going to stay before he ran. Peter felt guilty at that. Neal had thought that he was to blame. Normally Neal would have never shown that. But the drugs, that where now taking on its effects, took down the last bid of his defense walls. Peter wondered if Neal had even noticed that. 'What does she think about the situation?' _Was that a bit of fear?_ Peter didn't know. He knew El had told Neal to lie about the situation with Senator Pratt and that she had encouraged him to falsify his father's statement. Taking that into account Peter could imagine Neal's fear. His wife was a force to reckon with. 'She wasn't too happy about my decision to stay behind, but I wasn't going to leave you behind with those bloodsucking bureaucrats.' Neal's head shot up at that. He had a shocked expression on his face.

'You… wait... what?' 'I told El I wanted to stay. I realized that I was going to become something I despised if I went to D.C. Your situation reminded me how much I hate bureaucrats and politics.' Neal shook his head, like he was trying to rap his mind around the idea. 'So they didn't revoke your promotion when I ran.' Peter shifted at that. Well it had been Peter's decision in the beginning. The FBI had quickly reacted to Neal's escape and three days later Peter's promotion got revoked. They also reassigned most of the Harvard crew. In the end only Diana and Jones had remained. But Peter wasn't going to tell Neal that. Usually when Neal felt guilty he would do something stupid. _No, this was not the time to tell him._ The lie came out easy, yet Peter didn't feel very good about it.

'No, they gave me a firm slap on the wrist. But I wasn't responsible for you when you ran. They gave me a suspension, but that was only to find out if I had helped you escape.' Neal raised an eyebrow. 'Of course they did.' He said. Though it did not sound convinced. _Damned. _Peter had forgotten how good Neal was at seeing through lies. But then again so was he. Peter looked at his watch. It was time to get the rest of the story. 'Yes, also I was pulled from your case. The director brought in a special force to find you.' Neal grinned at that. _I should not have said that. I will never hear the end of it._ 'I have a taskforce? Really? I'm flattered. They really shouldn't have done that.' Peter rolled his eyes. Any person would have been scared by the idea. But of course Neal Caffrey would love it. 'But even they couldn't find you. It was like you had vanished of the bottom of the earth.' At that Neal gave him an odd look. 'You are not the first one to say that.'

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It was crowded in the warehouse area. In the early days these storages were used for several products from the middle-east. They would be kept for one or two nights and then transported all over Italië. Today most of the buildings were empty and degrading. Usually it was quiet around this area, because of the lack of work. Now on the other hand. The street was full with people looking at the spectacle in the middle of the street. The police and fire brigade had cleared half of the area. But judging by the flames that would still not be enough. There were 4 fire trucks and about 3 police vehicles. The fire brigade was trying to tame a fire in one of the empty warehouses. The flames raised high in the sky and left dark clouds in the air. From the other end of the street a black sedan watched the commotion as well. The driver was smoking a cigarette. The red end lightened his face. Smiling he threw the cigarette away and left the parking spot.

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Neal Caffrey felt very uncomfortable. Not only had the doctor been scolding at him, but he had also found out his IV wasn't in anymore. Neal hated drugs even more than he hated guns. They made him feel loopy and weird. Also he was much opener with people while under drugs. Something Peter knew by the looks of it. Neal could understand why though. Peter wanted answers. Neal couldn't blame him for that. If it had been the other way around he would have done the same. But still it was hard. Normally Neal didn't have any problems keeping up his façade and bending the truth, but today that was not the case. The events of the last three months had taken its toll. The lack of freedom, the frequent beatings and the fear of being shot. It had worn him out.

'You know even before I became Neal Caffrey I hated guns. I learned how to use them though. I had to, if I wanted to become a cop…' 'Wait you what?' Neal looked up from his sheets. Peter was looking at him in surprise. Blinking his eyes rapidly. _Damn drugs. _'I wanted to be a cop.' Neal continued. He could feel his cheeks slightly reddening. 'You wanted to be a cop?' Peter repeated. The disbelieve dripping from his voice. 'Yes, well. I always thought it was cool. You know as a teenager.' It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the entire truth either. Neal had always thought being a cop would be cool. But he really liked the challenge it brought. The thrill of the chase, etc. But he also wanted to help people, make the world a safer place. Just like Ellen and his dad had done. That's why he had learned how to shoot. He wanted to know how to shoot somebody without hurting them. Ellen always had said. 'Danny a weapon is for hurting people. As a cop we get them to protect ourselves and the civilians. But only as a last resort. Never forget that. Only use it as a last resort.' Neal had never forgotten how serious Ellen had looked. 'Promise me.' Neal had promised and since that day he had hated guns. Though he had nearly broken is promise, when he had tried to kill Fowler.

'You wanted to be a cop?' Peter repeated for the third time. Rolling his eyes Neal looked at Peter. 'Yes I wanted to be a cop. Can we let it go?' Peter stayed quiet for a couple of moments gathering his thoughts. 'Fine. Tell me what happened on the plane.' Peter continued. But the look he shot Neal was loud and clear. _I'm not going to let this go._

'Fine. As I said I knew the man meant business. He wore different cloths then in the park. Now come to think of it, he was dressed for Italië. I mean he had style. Very casual. He sat there very relaxed. Gun resting in his left hand. In his right he held a cup of tea. He smiled at me, while taking another sip. If I had to guess, earl grey, with some lemon. "So mister Caffrey. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. The men who brought Rachel down." He had a very British way of speaking, but his accent was unmistakably from Texas. I thought maybe a name could help me place him. "The pleasure is all mine… Mister…?" The man smiled. "O yes of course. I haven't introduced myself have I? Very well then. My name is Mr. Whitehall." Of course that was an alias. I mean who gives there abductee their real name. Whitehall is so not original. So I tried to get a reaction. "No, doesn't ring a bell. But I can call my friends at the FBI and look you up. If you really want me to know you. See what they have on you?"

Of course Peter had to interrupt there. 'Neal! Why do you always have to do that?!' Neal shot Peter an innocent look. 'Do what?' Peter raised an eyebrow at that. 'You know what.' 'No, I don't.' 'Yes you do.' Shaking his head, Neal continued.

'I tried to provoke something. Anything. Maybe the commotion could help me escape. But it didn't provoke anything. Mr. Whitehall just glared at me, but continued. "No thank you that will not be necessary. You see Mister Caffrey I am in need of your services. I heard that you are the best forger in the world." He stood and walked over to the window. Tapping his fingers on the table. Like he was waiting for something. So I continued. "People have said that, but you really shouldn't listen to rumors. Most of them turn out to be false."

'How modest of you.' Neal gave Peter an angry look. 'I'm always modest Peter.' He said while taking another sip of water. Peter started laughing. 'Sure Neal. Whatever you say.' Neal got the urge to stick his tong out. But decided not to, because that would only prove Peters point. 'Do you want to tell the story? Because I'm not reliving these memories for fun, you know.' Neal felt a bit guilty playing the memory card, but he really wanted to get this over with. In fact he needed to relive these memories. He needed to absorb them, make them a part of his inner shield. Neal looked at Peter, who looked back with worried eyes. Neal gave him a sad smile. _As to say, I'm okay._ Peter nodded. 'Please, go on.'

'Yes, where was I?'

Mr. Whitehall gave me a strange look and continued. "Somehow I don't think that is the truth. Never mind that. We will found out soon enough." He looked at this watch, probably to check the arrival time. I have to say, I was getting a bid annoyed. So I went for the direct approach. "Let's cut to the chase, shall we. What do you want from me?" Mr. Whitehall shook his head and looked very disappointed. "I thought I was very clear. Maybe you are not as bright as I thought…"

That was a very wrong comment. So I decided to make him sing a lower tone. "You want me to forge some paintings." I said. "Probably to sell on the black market. You know Rachel. I'm guessing she is a former asset. So you probably are former British intelligence to. I think your name is not Whitehall at all. It's just a name to hide from Interpol." Mr. Whitehall nodded and walked back to his seat. "Very good…" Mr. Whitehall interrupted. He behaved a bit like you. Always interrupting when other people are talking.

I shook my head and continued. "I was just getting started. I'm replacing Rachel aren't I? She is a thief, so she probably stole paintings for you. But now you need another plan. I don't think you are calling the shots. I'm guessing you need to bring in a percentage of money every year. And now with Rachel and the twin of the hope diamond gone, you need something to bring in the cash. So that's where I come in. I have a reputation of running and the board just declined my early release, so I was an easy target." I took a breath to see what his reaction would be. Honestly Peter if I was an ant he would have crushed me. "That might…" Mr. Whitehall tried to continue. But I decided to go a step further.

"I'm not finished. Rachel was after the twin of the hope diamond. You don't like replicas. You want original work. I mean it's worth more and it sells better. Also it's easier to transport or fence. You want to impress. That's why you don't want me to copy paintings. You want me to paint lost work, don't you?" Of course, that struck a cord. Mr. Whitehall looked like was going to shoot me. He walked over to my chair. Firmly placed his hands on my shoulders. The gun pressing into my flesh. "What made you come to that conclusion?" He asked. His voice low and dangerous. I couldn't see his face. But I felt his hands tighten. "Well," I said," you need the best forger in the world. But many forgers know how to copy a painting. Very few know how to copy the artist. I do."

'Always modest you said.' Neal gave Peter another angry look. 'Really Peter, has your mother never told you it is rude to interrupt people. Stupid question. She probably has, but you where to stubborn to listen. You know it is really annoying. No wonder El likes talking to me more. I mean, I don't interrupted people when they are telling a story.' Peter put up his hands. 'Sorry, Sorry go on.'

I know that was stupid. But come on. What would you have said? That guy was really arrogant. Mr. Whitehall walked over to the window again. Slightly smiling and nodding. "Very well, let's cut to the chase indeed." He said. "You are correct. I am British intelligence and my name isn't Whitehall. And I do need those new works. Rachel was good, really good. But in the end she did not succeed. I hope that you will mister Caffrey. You are wrong about one other thing, though. I do want you to copy unknown work, but not for the black market. No, that's for criminals with a lack of creativity and intelligence. I want to go bigger. I want to pull off the con of the century. And you Mister Caffrey. You are going to help me." He sat back down and put on his seatbelt. The engines of the plain where running. Slowly the world outside the window started to move. "And if I don't?" I asked. Mr. Whitehall turned the gun in his hands. Then pointed it at me. As he did that he put the safety back on. "Hahaha, you will Mister Caffrey… You will…"


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note**

**Omg you guys. I'm so, so, so, so, so, sorry for the long waiting! :'( My study is just very demanding, but don't worry though. My updates will take a while, but I always finish what I started. Thanks again for following, reviewing and reading in general. I hope you will enjoy this chapter, as much as I enjoy writing for you. Please review and enjoy!**

**Ps: And omg season 6 is amazing. Too bad it's only 3 more episodes. I'm crying already. I don't want this to end!**

Chapter 8

Neal Caffrey had thought out many ways to evade law enforcement, but walking out of an embassy dressed as an Italian doctor was not one of them. It had all started a couple of hours ago. Neal had just finished his story, when Peters' cell rang. After looking at the display Peter got up and excused himself. As soon as Peter left the room, Neal let his façade fall. He would never let Peter see how much damage Mr. Whitehall had done to him. But keeping up the façade had been hard to. _Too hard. _Especially when the memories came rushing back to him. Usually Neal didn't have any problems suppressing his bad memories. When he was younger he would even make a game out of it. But this time it had taken everything from him not to cry out and jump from the bed.

Neal knew why Peter had gone out. He had given the bureau his official statement. Nevertheless it also given Neal a moment to get mind back together. A while later Peter returned with a cup fresh coffee. Even without tasting Neal knew it was Italian roast. Smiling he sipped his coffee. 'What?' Peter asked frowning. 'You know what.' He answered while his smile grew wider. 'No I don't.' Neal looked at Peter and raised his eyebrow. 'Okay, I do. Stop smiling like a six-year old.' That made Neal burst into laughter. After they had finished their coffee, Peter decided that they should both get some rest. Tomorrow was going to be a big day. Even though Neal was cleared to fly, it didn't mean he was completely healed. Or so Peter had told him. The only thing Neal could think about was getting back to New York as soon as possible. _Finally home._

Not much later Neal was startled awake by the sound of the doorknob. A moment later the door opened and a man in a blue suit walked through. The man very slim, but not very large. Mozzie looked like a giant compared to this man. The man looked very nervous and his hands kept pulling at his jacket. His hair looked wet, like he had just gotten out of the shower and his eyes were bloodshot. Behind him came a man in a black suit with dark sunglasses. If Neal hadn't known better he would have thought Arnold Schwarzenegger had come in. Even though the small man looked like he was going to die on the spot, he still stood his ground. Canvasing the room to see if everything was still in order. Almost like a con man would do. In fact the man acted like owned the place and Neal was definitely ruining it.

'Mister Caffrey?' He said, while walking over to the left side of the bed. Something that looked like a polite smile appeared on his face. Though Neal could see it wasn't a real smile, more like a forced grin. 'I don't suppose you remember me. We met while you were still asleep. My name is ambassador Corn. I'm the ambassador of the American embassy in Rome.' Ambassador Corn sounded proud at that. Nevertheless something felt off about him. _Time to get into character. _Neal flashed one of his million dollar smiles and extended his hand. 'Well, I see no use introducing myself. You already know all there is to know. I do want to thank you though. You are very kind to lend me sanctuary.' As Neal said that ambassador Corn seemed to shrink before his eyes. Neal shook his head and smiled. 'Okay let's be honest to each other. You are here to tell me that I have to leave, right?' The ambassador looked up at that. Slightly frowning, but not saying a word. What only confirmed Neal suspicion.

'I'm guessing you met Mr. Whitehall?' The ambassadors' face turned from red to white within a minute. It was like all the blood drained from his face. Neal could understand that, Mr. Whitehall was a force to be reckoned with. 'And he wants you to deliver me to him. Otherwise you wouldn't be here. Now there is no way that Peter will leave me alone here. So you decided to take me at the airport. Probably the bathrooms. It could work, but there are too many variables at the airport. If you want to kidnap somebody, you want to keep it simple. You probably figured that getting away would be kind of difficult. So you came up with another solution. So what did you come up with?' While Neal was talking Corn had moved to the heart monitor. It was beeping more rapidly than before. Something that bothered Neal. 'Take that out would you? It's irritating me and I don't want to set off an alarm.' Corn said to Arnold. The man immediately moved from the door to the heart monitor. 'I must say you are very… Perceptive, Mr. Caffrey.'

Neal flashed another smile. 'Well thank you. I try to be.' Corn shook his head. 'You do realize that is exactly the thing that caused this problem. Anyway I figured out how to get you to Mr. Whitehall. I must say it is quite genius. You see there is another opportunity. Tomorrow the doctor will come back. He will ask your FBI friend to wait outside. In the meantime I will pick you up from your room and we will leave the premises together. You see, I have a rental car parked outside, with your name on it. It will look like you ran again." Neal had to admit, it was actually a pretty good plan. By ordering the car in his name, Neal would definitely be a suspect. Thereby Corn would also have an alibi about why he had helped Caffrey. Because who would believe the word of a convict over the word of an American ambassador. Peter could. But even his faith was running out.

Then he suddenly noticed the flaw. 'I can see you thought about everything. How are you going to get me out though? I mean I can't leave through the front door. Peter will notice that.' But Corn shook his head and started smiling. 'Mr. Caffrey, you disappoint me. I thought you were smarter. This is an old building. And as you very well know old buildings have many secrets. I just wanted to warn you mister Caffrey. Please, don't try anything. It will not end well…" Corn said as he walked to the door. His bodyguard walking right behind him. At the door he turned one last time. "For both of us."

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Mozzie was tired. Not only physically, but also mentally. It had been a hard couple of months. The night of Neal's disappearance Mozzie had come by to pitch one of his escape plans. Yet he found the apartment empty. Not it was strange for Neal, who was generally a night person. Usually Neal would be either at a museum, in a park or at El's house. Seeing has his plans were a secret from the suit, Mozzie decided to wait for Neal here. While, of course, enjoying Neal's wine cabinet. After 1 bottle it became clear that Neal wasn't going to come home tonight. So Mozzie made himself comfortable on the cough and slept. The next morning he was awoken by a knock on the door. Quickly getting up, he opened the it and found a very surprised June looking back at him.

'Mozzie? Is Neal there? We were supposed to have breakfast together. When he didn't come down, I figured he was still asleep. He has been doing that a lot lately. So I came up to check on him. We had carts for the opera this afternoon.' At this Mozzie frowned. June was Neal's landlady, but in fact she was more like a mother to him. Mozzie knew that Neal would never forget a meeting with June. He loved her too much for that. Mozzie stepped back and let June into the apartment. 'Well as you can see I'm here alone. Except for the overgrown pigeons on the balcony, that is.' Smiling June walked into the apartment. "Those are Byron's, I never had the heart to give them away. He loved those pigeons. Used to give them names. I guess with nowhere to go, they have grown a little." Mozzie smiled. Byron was June's late husband. He too had been a con artist and apparently he and Neal had quite a few things income. Mozzie knew the joy of pigeons. They were very reliable. And as Byron he also gave them names. 'Byron had a good taste." June gave him another sad smile. "Well. Seeing as Neal isn't here, I will go to the opera by myself." June was a very independent woman. Though she liked the company very much. Often she complemented Neal on bringing more life into the house. After saying that she turned and started walking towards the door. 'Or you could let me accompany you? I promise I have quite a fine taste for musical art. Also, seeing as Neal isn't here, I have some spare time." At that June turned around again, a smile crept around the corners of her mouth. 'It would be my pleasure. You know I still have a suit in the guest room and I believe it is just your size,' she said while holding out her arm. Smiling Mozzie took her it and they went out together.

After the opera, Mozzie went straight to his friend's apartment. Expecting to see Neal lying in his chair, sleeping on the table, while a glass of wine stood in front of him. Yet the apartment was still empty. There was a disturbance though. Neal's room had been trashed. There were several documents on the ground. Paintings were hanging loose. A strange feeling settled into Mozzie's stomach. The apartment was exactly as the day before, but at the same time very different. Usually when Neal had pulled an all-nighter, he would come back home to change his suit. But when Mozzie looked into the closet none of Neal's suits had disappeared. Also the duffle bag Neal used for running was still sitting on the usual spot. At that moment Mozzie decided to call Neal. So when the phone went straight to voicemail he got even more concerned than before. Slightly panicking Mozzie knew there was only one thing left to do. Going to the source of the problem. _ The lion's den._ It was quite late in the evening when he knocked on the door of the Burke household. Almost directly the door was opened by a very angry Peter. And before Mozzie could say Einstein, he was handcuffed and brought to the FBI headquarters.

It was not an experience he wanted to repeat. They had brought Mozzie to the conversance room. Mostly because they couldn't prove that he was involved in anything. And probably because they knew Mozzie would go crazy, before they could ask him any questions. Of course the suit had taken place before him and opened a file. But before he could utter a word, Mozzie began with his usual rampage. 'Suit, I do hope you know I have rights and needs. I want to know on what charges I'm being held here. So that I can spectacularly call for a lawyer. Also I want coffee with lactose free milk in it please. And if you happen to have, it a sandwich. Also lactose free. Or else I will have to prosecute you on attempted murder. Not that I would do it myself. I would hire someone, of course. You know, I'm in a very good position to sue you if I feel like my rights are being threatened. And I will, if it is necessary. And do I need to remind you, the many occasions in which my assistance has led to the capture of a particularly device criminal. Those things have to be taken into account before you press any charges at all. It would be very easy to elaborate on the path you walked with me and Neal. Not to mention career damaging. Talking about Neal, I guess your bureaucratic bloodsucking terminators trashed his place? Do you even know how much that Monet is worth? Not to say the least about his watch collection. Which I did not know about. What did you do with all the cash in the fireplace? Not that I knew anything about that either. Where is Neal anyway? He and June were supposed to go to the opera. Don't worry I accompanied her in his place. Quite a nice piece, though the second violinist could have been better. Still nothing is perfect. Yet Neal did not call her, which is odd. Even for Neal. Which means he could not call her. You put him back in prison didn't you? That's why he didn't call June. Did you even give him his phone call? Why wasn't I informed as his lawyer? I demand to see my client right now. He has ri…'

Mozzie was surprised by a hand on his mouth. Peter rolled his eyes at Mozzie and looked at him intently. 'I will tell you the charges, but before I can do that there is something you need to do.' Mozzie looked back and tried to answer. But he couldn't because the suit's hand was still on his mouth. 'Hmpfhm..' Peter shook his head, but did not move his hand. 'I need you to shut up and listen. Is that going to be a problem?' Mozzie looked at the suit again. The suit looked tired. Like there was a big wait lying on his shoulders. Mozzie decided that the best thing to do right now was nod. Finally the suit let go and leant back. 'I'm not charging you with anything... Yet,' he continued when Mozzie opened his mouth again. 'I want to know where Neal ran off to. Yes I know he ran. He cut is anklet. What I don't know is where he is. If you help me I might be able to let him keep his sentence. But I will not promise anything else. He will probably be send back to singsing for this. So please Mozzie, where is Neal?' It took Mozzie a moment to realize what the Suit was saying. _Neal ran? _Mozzie did not believe it for a second. Neal would never leave him alone like that. He would have come to him with his plan and then they would run together. Also Neal would say goodbye to June and to El. They deserved a prober goodbye. And Neal would even have informed Peter of his flight. In one way or another.

Not long after that, Mozzie decided that Neal had been taken_._ There was no other explanation. Neal would never voluntarily leave. While working as a conman Neal had made many enemies. As a criminal informant Neal hadn't been loved either. So the hunt to find out what happened began. In the last couple of months Mozzie had contacted every street contact he had. Asking questions, making deals and inning favors. _The usual, actually._ But after two months Mozzie had… Well not given up. He would never give up on Neal, just as Neal would never give up on him. He had taken a break, form the never ending search.

There was a new exposition in town and the whole white collar community was talking about it. Mostly because the pieces did not exist till a month ago. They were considered lost. Sometimes one of those lost paintings was found in a warehouse or at an attic. But this many found in one place. It was extraordinary and very strange. That's why every thief, fence and con had taken residence in New York. Mozzie was even more interested.

After the u-boot incident Mozzie had been looking for a final score everywhere. So when he and Neal went after the twin of the hope diamond Mozzie had considered it faith. Finally they would have their final score and it would even be legal to. But nothing was truer. The suit had confiscated the diamond and put it in the FBI fault. Secretly Mozzie still wanted to steal it from the faults. He even had maps to do it, but knowing the suit he would never get away with it. So the maps stayed well hidden for everyone. This exposition nevertheless was the opportunity of a lifetime. Yet it didn't feel the same without Neal. Even though Mozzie would never admit it, he felt lonely. Usually he could pitch his ideas to Neal. They would drink a glass of wine and discuss the flaws in his plan. Mozzie trusted Neal with his life, which had been put through the test more than enough the last years. But most of all Neal was his friend and it wasn't fun doing a heist without him.

When the lady Suit called Mozzie to tell him Neal had been found, he was astatic to have his partner back. Though he did not like the circumstances under which Neal was found. He knew Neal better than anyone. The kid was going to keep everything inside. The only time Neal let out his emotions was while painting. That's why Mozzie never stayed when Neal started painting something not work related. It was his way of saying to the world. _This is how I feel, don't worry. I will be okay._ What Mozzie didn't know was that only he had seen any of Neal's original paintings. After his conversation with the lady suit, Mozzie decided to call Peter. It had been a very satisfying conversation. All the frustrations had come out and Mozzie had finally heard his friend's voice. To the tone of that voice had worried him. Neal had sounded unsure. Neal had said he was fine, but Mozzie didn't believe it for a second. That and his gut feeling made him turn to drastic measures.

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At the moment Neal was still pacing through his room. He had to get out. There was just no other way to ensure his safety. And there was no way in hell was he going back to Mr. Whitehall and his comrades. Honestly Neal was glad that Corn had removed his heart monitor. Otherwise the beeping would have attacked much unwanted attention. Looking down at his hands Neal noticed they were slightly shaking. Suddenly he stopped pacing around. _Come Caffrey cowboy up. _The irony of that thought did not escape Neal. Closing his eyes, Neal started to focus on his breathing. Clearing his mind and relaxing his muscles. Slowly Neal opened his eyes again and started scanning the room. Mozzie had always told him, 'To form a plan you only have to look at the tools at hand.' When he had finished his round, Neal started thinking back to what he had seen. The door and window where closet. That was not an option. He would be seen in a minute and then there would be no getting away.

Suddenly Neal looked back at the rear wall. There was a bookcase, but to the left there was enough room for a person or maybe a door? Quickly Neal walked over to the space. The wall was made of wood, but there was a line in the corner. Examining the line, Neal started pressing spots on the wall. Yet nothing seemed to be working. Frowning Neal thought back to what the ambassador had said. 'Mr. Caffrey, you disappoint me. I thought you were smarter. This is an old building. And as you very well know old buildings have many secrets.' Neal looked back at the wooden wall. Then he looked at the other side of the room. Could it really be that simple? Quickly Neal walked to the other side and started examining the wall. There it was. There was a little bump in the wall. Almost like a button. Silently praying Neal pressed the little bump. There was a soft unlocking sound and on the other side of the room, a wooden door swung open. _That's one. _He had found a way out of the room. The other room let to a closet full of suits. Slightly smiling Neal picked a Devore from one of the hangers. Neal had to admit that the ambassador, not like the doctor, did have a great fashion taste.

Suddenly his mind formed another idea. Quickly he walked back into his room. At the end of the bed stood a small suitcase. When the doctor left after scolding at Neal, he had forgotten his suitcase. Neal smiled, it was perfect. The guards knew there was a prisoner that needed medical attention. And if he went now the guards on duty probably wouldn't know that the doctor had already left. _That's two. _Now he needed a plan to get out of the country. Well that was quite another story. _Time for the help line. _Neal walked to his bed and pulled out a phone. Also the doctors. Grinning Neal called the only person who would know how to get out of a country unseen. Plus the doctor would get a very high phone bill. 'Hello?' A voice on the other end of the line said. Mozzie sounded tired. 'Hey Moz, it's me. You okay?' At the other end, Mozzie started smiling. Even though Neal could not see Mozzie, he could hear his smile. 'Yes, well let's say that sleeping is not a luxury I can afford. At least not until I get back to Thursday.' That gave him a sort laugh from Neal. 'Moz, I need help. Apparently I'm not save here anymore. I figured out, how to get out of the embassy…'

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'But you need my brilliant mind to get out of the country. Don't worry Neal, one day you will be able to do it all.' Mozzie could almost hear Neal roll his eyes at him. 'Luckily for you, I already have a plan in motion. Don't worry young grasshopper I will tell you all about it.' Mozzie continued.

It had worried him that the embassy wasn't safe for Neal anymore. Nevertheless Neal wanted to escape. This was in Mozzie's opinion was very good thing. It meant that the old Neal was still there. That what the suit had found was not an empty shell. Also Mozzie knew from experience that pulling a con was the best way to get back to normal. Neal would get his part of the plan done, Mozzie knew. Just as Mozzie would get his part done. Looking out of the airplane window, Mozzie could see the beautiful dome of the Saint Peter. The plane had a full gas tank and Mozzie knew exactly how to fly it. _Yes everything was going to work out just fine and that was three_


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note**

**Helloooo, I'm back. And yes you can say it. It took me a goddamn while to start writing again. Like I said, very demanding study. So I'm really sorry for the long wait. I also wanted to take the chance to say how amazing you guys are. I love you guys so much for reading this story and I hope I do not disappoint. Thanks again for following, reviewing and reading in general. I hope you will enjoy this chapter, as much as I enjoy writing for you. Please review and enjoy!**

**Ps: And omg season 6 the ending. I'm still dying. But to everything comes an end. One good thing did come from this, I have another writing idea. So buckle up, because you're not getting rid of me that fast.**

Chapter 9

Elizabeth Burke was working on an assignment form her new employees. The National Art Gallery had requested her to make a trip to New York. Apparently there was this new exhibition with paintings form several famous masters. More extraordinary was however that all the paintings where considered lost. Honestly El did not mind going back to New York. In fact she had jumped on the opportunity to get back. Coming home just wasn't the same. The empty house scared her. In New York she hadn't mind spending the night alone in the house. Even though she had started locking the doors after the Keller incident. In this house however she did not only lock the doors and windows, she had also installed an alarm system. At every noise she would jump out of bed and walk around the apartment with a baseball bat. It definitely did not improve her mood. Even when Peter was visiting she didn't felt completely safe.

At the moment Elizabeth was walking around on the first floor of a pretty extraordinary building. The building had a small exterior and the bricks looked like they were going to fall off. But the inside looked amazing. It was about the size of a swimming pool. Two round staircases led up to the first floor. 4 French windows let in a beam of sunlight and the door was made of something that looked like mahogany wood. Most impressive was the paint collection though. The first moment El walked into the gallery she could not believe her eyes. _Neal would have loved this._ On the left wall hung seven large paintings. There was a rope in front of the paintings so the guests would not come to close. That's why Elizabeth and the curator she had brought with her were here now. For the curator to do his job, he needed to see the paintings up close. Something that would not be possible at the auction.

Elizabeth looked at the list she was holding in her hands. It was a list of all the paintings displayed in the gallery. In total there were 43 paintings, but there was something crucial missing. On the right wall there was a big empty space. There wires were hanging from the sealing, but there wasn't a painting to be seen. 'I see you did not put up the center piece yet?' She asked the benefactor. Who was standing behind her, observing her every move. 'No, I wanted it to be a surprise.' Elizabeth turned around to look at the man. He was about as tall as Peter and had brown hair. A casual smile was on his lips. His hands were in his pockets. He looked absolutely normal, except for the strange shoes. He wore snake leather cowboy boots. Not very common for a New Yorker. But then again everybody had his own taste. 'Maybe. Honestly I think you are trying to get more buyers, who can then driving up the price.' It was a well-known trick in the auction world. And Elizabeth couldn't blame him for trying to make a profit. 'You are a very perceptive woman Mrs. Burke.' He said. But his smile looked forced and there was a small glimmer in his eyes. Suddenly El wished the curator was not on the other side of the room. _This man is dangerous. _'Well that's what my husband always tells me,' she answered with a sly smile. _Nothing wrong with a small insurance, right? _The man laughed. 'A very smart man.'

That's when the curator Dereck Potato joined them. 'I'm finished, Mr. White. I will send this report to the national art gallery and then they will contact Mrs. Burke about the paintings they want to buy.' Elizabeth looked at him with surprise. It was like the curator was in charge, while actually she was. Not that she needed to be in charge. 'Eh, thank you Dereck. Well, like Mr. Smith told you I will come back to you as soon as possible. Thank you so much for inviting us. You have a beautiful gallery. You should be very proud. And I look forward to the master piece.' Elizabeth said, while extending her hand. Mr. White shook it with and smiled. 'So am I, Mrs. Burke. So am I.'

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Special Agent Peter Burke was not happy. Honestly he was furious. He should have seen it coming. It was so typically Neal. But Neal had been injured, Peter tried to tell himself. Wounded animals are even more dangerous when there trapped. Not that Neal was a danger to others, but more a danger to himself. The doctor had told Neal not to walk on that leg. _But why would he listen, it's not like people care about him. _Peter sighed. _Stupid Neal. _Walking out of the airport Peter turned on his cell. Still no messages. Frowning Peter put his cellphone away. He had hoped that Neal would call him, but he hadn't heard anything. Silently Peter prayed that Neal was okay. He didn't think that Neal would survive another kidnapping. And for that matter, neither did he. Peter waved his hand to hold a New York cab. _God I miss my car._ After Neal ran they took his new car. So now he drove his old Tartarus again. Today on the other hand Elizabeth had taken it to a meeting. Getting into the cab, Peter looked at his watch. _El will be home soon and I really need a decent cup of coffee._

Everything had gone great, until Neal had pulled another disappearing act. Peter still hadn't a clue how Neal had done it this time. After leaving Neal to rest, Peter had gone to his own room. But when he reached it, he couldn't fall asleep. _Probably the jetlag._ To tell the truth Peter was worried. About El and about Neal. About the guy that took Neal, about the trip home and about Neal. About ambassador Corn, about the team, about his job and again about Neal. Peter sighed. Life before Neal Caffrey had been so much easier, but then again it had also been very boring. Neal was part of the family and family took care of each other. What worried Peter the most was Neal's psychological trauma. Neal was not one to share his feelings or emotions. He dealt with everything alone and quietly. Mostly because he had nobody to share them with. Neal would never see a therapist. That was not his cup of thee. Definitely not after his appointment with the therapist, who drugged her clients. Peter still didn't know what she had said, but it had had a great impact on Neal. Still Neal would never spill everything on his mind to a total stranger.

'Peter, you know me better than that. I mean what keeps them from spilling everything I say to… well… for example law enforcement.' Neal had told him, while waving his hand in Peter's direction. Peter had asked Neal if he wanted counselling. Being in prison could leave certain scars on a man and Peter knew that prison was not a fun place to be. If a person committed a crime they deserved to go to jail according to Peter, but he did not wish them to suffer. Unfortunately it did happen. So Peter had suggested to Neal that he should talk to a therapist. In the beginning of their deal trust was delicate. So the answer Neal had given him had raised his suspicions. 'You do know they have doctor patient confidentiality, right?' Neal shook his head at that. 'Yes, but that can be lifted under certain circumstances.' Peter raised an eyebrow. 'Planning something that would create these circumstances?' Neal gave him a shocked look. 'Peter you wound me. I would never knowingly create those circumstances.' Peter raised his eyebrow even higher. 'Really?' Now Neal looked offended. 'Thanks for the vote of confidence Peter. Really inspiring. Did they teach you that at Quantico?' At that Peter smiled. 'Yes, together with the double finger point.'

Sulking Neal had continued reading the file. 'But really Neal. If you need to talk to someone, the bureau has therapists.' Neal looked up and tilted his head. 'Aren't those for agents?' Peter sighed. Leave it to Neal to try and find a catch. 'No, there for all FBI personal. And as a consultant you are FBI.' Peter noticed his mistake as soon as Neal started talking. 'I'm FBI, why Peter you never told me that. Good to know. Next time we go and arrest someone I get to where a vest and yell, "FBI drop to the ground".' Peter rolled his eyes and decided to ignore the comment. 'What I meant to say was that if you ever needed to talk I can help. And if a therapist is nothing for you, than I will have you know that El thinks I'm a great listener.' Peter saw that Neal smiled at that. 'Really that's what Elizabeth says?' 'Yes it is,' Peter had insisted. Neal had remained quiet at that. Suddenly Neal had stood up and walked towards the door. When he was nearly out, Neal had turned around. 'Thank you, Peter. I will consider it.' After that Neal had vanished for at least an hour. Peter had never spoken about it again.

After that memory Peter had finally drifted off. The next morning though all hell broke loose. Peter woke up to the screaming of what seemed like a teenage girl. The next moment someone started knocking on the door. 'Agent Burke! Agent Burke! Please come quickly. Something has happened. The Ambassador is going loco. All the security is on high alert. Please come,' Tosca Vargas had pleaded through the door. Never in his life had Peter dressed so quickly. Outside his door the secretary was pacing up and down the hall. When she saw him, she started walking away, signaling him to walk with. 'Something happened. I don't know the details yet. When I arrived Paul sent me straight to you.' Her voice sounded shaky and her Italian accent was now clearly noticeable. Nodding Peter tried to keep up with the secretary. She walked with great certainty through the big halls. 'Is Neal okay? Who was screaming earlier?' Shaking her head Tosca answered. 'I don't know anything about Mister Caffrey's condition. Though I have to inform you, I did just come from his room. As to who was screaming? That would have been Ambassador Corn.' Peter frowned. _How on earth did that man become Ambassador? _They turned another corner and Neal's room came into few. Three guards where standing in front of the door. Ambassador Corn was yelling at his bodyguard. Somebody inside the room was shouting orders. Peter ignored the Ambassador and walked through the door. He could hear Tosca Vargas trying to calm the Ambassador in the background.

Peter's heart was pounding as he walked into the room. The first thing Peter noticed was the heart monitor. It gave a flat line, but there was no sound. The next thing Peter saw was the open door of the secret chamber. Or at least he thought it was a secret chamber. _No, please no. Not again._ Quickly his eyes went to the bed. It was empty. 'What the hell happened?' At that Paul Gardner emerged from the secret room. 'He escaped, that's what happened. Something or somebody scared him off, I tell you. Caffrey disconnected the heart monitor and after that he found this secret room. I didn't even know there where such things in this building. I don't think the American consulate knew. Otherwise there would have been more security. Anyway Caffrey then took a suit, a Devore might I add. And then he just walked out of this building. He just walked out, I tell you. I have my guys going over every inch of this house, but he is long gone.' Shaking his head Paul looked at the bed in defeat. 'Have you checked the surveillance feed?' Peter asked. 'Yes, I already have a man on it. Even called every guard for duty. Don't worry, if he is still here we will find him. I mean how far can an injured man go?' Peter bit his lip. 'Further than you can imagine. It's Neal Caffrey we're talking about. He escaped out of the super max like it was a walk in the park. There could be another option though. You're sure Neal wasn't… taken?' Peter knew this was a sensitive question, but he had to ask. The question suggested that Gardner and his fellow guards couldn't protect consulate properly. 'No, he wasn't taken. There would have been signs of a struggle. Apparently two of the guards weren't paying attention during my speech. They let Caffrey just walk out of here. Thought he was a doctor. Idiots!' Peter cursed under this breath. This was the second time Peter had lost Neal and this time Neal had done it himself.

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This morning started as bad as the others. Ambassador Corn had woken up early. He was nervous about his plan. _What if someone caught him? _Shaking his head Corn had stood up en went to the bathroom. After a long shower he had walked out of his room and left with is bodyguard. The halls of the Embassy where empty. In the time before Corn became Ambassador, the rooms of the Embassy where filled with people. Diplomats came over to discuss matters of state and American tourists visited to see the building form the inside. Corn had always found that most irritating. He could never concentrate. Every time he walked out of his room, he tripped over a kid. Screaming children and yelling men, that just to be the in consulate. Corn used to call it the market of Rome. His first move as Ambassador was banning tourist inside the consulate. American citizens were only allowed access, when they were of high stature. Or if they needed help. Also he had his secretary move all meetings to a different location. Talking about his secretary, he still needed to fire her. The changes made it possible for Corn to move freely in the embassy. Walking through another empty hallway Corn bit is lip. _Why did I agree to this again? O yes, because he will kill me if I don't._

'Where there boss.' Corn blinked a couple of times. They had arrived at the room of his guest criminal. _The man that costs me so much worry and trouble._ Shaking his head he answered his guard. 'Yes, thank you. Very helpful.' Taking a deep breath Ambassador Corn opened the door. At first he couldn't see anything. The room was dark. All the curtains where closed. But before Corn could even react his bodyguard had left the room, shouting for back-up. The bed in the middle of the room was empty. And the only thing Ambassador Corn could do was scream in frustration.

After yelling at his bodyguard for 15 minutes, Corn had finely calmed down. Then the implications of this event started to settle in. _Neal Caffrey escaped._ _The criminal had escaped. My only bargaining chip has escaped and I caused it. He knew about the room, because of me. They're going to kill me._ Quickly he had sat down and while his secretary ran away to get some water. After another 15 minutes, in which Corn was feeling very sorry for himself, Agent Burke came to him demanding to ask some questions. Questions to which Corn did not know the answers. After every answer he could see the Agent getting more frustrated. But the questions only made Corn angry. He was ambassador, not some low life criminal. So he had suddenly walked away. Saying that he would not answer any questions, until they had found Caffrey. Ambassador Corn could still hear the threat Agent Burke had uttered. 'I will arrest you for obstruction of justice and then you can say goodbye to your career!' But Corn could care less. He had just received a text message, with the location he was supposed to drop Caffrey of.

Now Ambassador Corn was standing in the rain. _Damn weatherman, sunshine my ass. _It was midday and the rain was pouring down on him. He had been waiting on the airfield for half an hour now. Nobody had come yet, not that Corn minded that. Though he would never admit it, Ambassador Corn was scared. More than scared, he was terrified. His bodyguard was standing behind him. Corn didn't think about going to this meeting alone. _Never again. _Suddenly a car arrived. It was the black Sudan. The car stopped right in front of him and through the window he could see a cigarette burning. The man got out of the car in a slow manner. Looking over his surroundings. The 8 mm was hanging under his left arm. He took another sip from his cigarette and spit on the ground.

'So, Mister Corn. Where is our package?' It was said in a low whisper, but still the hair on Corns neck stood up. Also the fact that the man called him "mister" had not gone by unnoticed. 'I… We… Well… I…' Somehow Corn couldn't utter a word. It was like he was frozen in place, like the words where stuck in his throat. The man raised an eyebrow. 'What's wrong? Cat caught your tong? Spit it out man.' Suddenly the words broke free. 'Caffrey escaped.' Corn wanted to disappear. The man tensed, cigarette forgotten in his hand. 'He escaped?' Corn shrunk at the words. 'He somehow got away. I don't know how. He was under supervision and…' 'You lost him? Well that's… unfortunate.' It happened so fast that Corn didn't even realize what was happening. The cigarette man pulled the gun and shot in the blink of an eye. His guard drooped to the ground without a sound.

'Very unfortunate. I told the boss as much. If you want to do something right, you have to do it yourself. Thank you for your cooperation, but you just became expendable. Goodbye.' He pointed the gun at Corn. Everything seemed to go in slow-motion. Corn turned around and tried to run away. Tried to reach the car and hide behind it. He could hear the gunshot even before he felt it. It sounded loud in his ears. Like a canon had gone off. Corn dropped to the ground, but he was too late. Pain erupted from his back. So much pain and then it stopped. Ambassador Corn drew his last breath. Hands spread wide, legs twisted and eyes staring under the car at the airplanes that came by. Ambassador Corn was no more, but the cellphone in his pocket was still there. Silently recording everything that had happened…


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's note**

**Haaai everyone, so I'm really sorry for the long wait. It has become a habit to be late with my updates. Neal would disapprove, I'm sure. Anyway I'm so glad that you guys are still reading my story. It gives me a lot of inspiration. And thank you again for the great reviews. I will pay better attention to my grammar next time ;). Also when the story is finished I will review my grammar again, to take out the spelling mistakes that I missed. Thanks again for following, reviewing and reading in general. I hope you will enjoy this chapter, as much as I enjoy writing for you. Because I really, really enjoy writing for you guys. Please review and enjoy!**

Chapter 10

'Sir, where there.' The cabdriver said, as he stopped in front of the Burke household. Peter Burke smiled at the sight of his house. _Home. _Peter had never liked traveling. In the beginning of his career he had traveled a lot. It made him miss a lot of important things. Like Christmas, New Year and birthdays. He didn't visit his parents anymore. Most of all he didn't feel at home in his own house. When Peter became part of the white collar crime division that all changed. He didn't have to travel anymore. Everything outside of New York was out of his jurisdiction and Peter liked it that way. He could kiss his wife when he got home, pat Satchmo and watch the game on the couch. It wasn't that Peter never wanted to travel. He just didn't want to travel alone. Airplanes were always busy. Annoying children who all wanted to sit next to the window, angry businessmen that screamed at their phones and old ladies who loved to make small talk about their cats. He wanted someone to talk to and the knowledge that he would go home after a couple of weeks. None of that mattered now though, Peter Burke was home.

After thanking the cabdriver, Peter got out of the cab. Quickly grabbing his suitcase, Peter returned to the front to pay the man. As he was paying he felt a set of eyes on him. Like he was being watched. Turning around Peter looked at his house. That was strange? He could have sworn he saw something move inside. But before he could investigate, his vision was drawn to another car. Peter smiled as the car pulled up. It was his Tartarus. Elizabeth Burke stepped out of the car, with a big smile on her face. She was wearing a blue dress with a black belt. The dress didn't have any sleeves. She was holding a jacket and some paperwork in her left hand, while holding on to her bag with her right hand. Her long brown hair curled on her back and her shoes clicked on the pavement. To Peter Burke she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Which he unknowingly said out loud. 'God you are so beautiful.' Elizabeth seemed to radiate at that. 'I love you, hun.' She said while kissing her husband.

It almost looked like a movie. When Peter pulled back from the kiss he smiled even wider. 'I love you too, hun. How was your meeting?' El's face fell at that and she frowned. Peter silently called it her angry frown. When something irritated her, she would frown that frown. 'It went okay, I think. We will have to wait on the board. But we'll see.' Peter raised his eyebrow. 'It went okay? Tell me, what went wrong?' Sighing El looked him in the eye. 'It's just… that curator gets under my skin. He is so… Slow and he needs to look over everything. In the meanwhile I have to entertain the owner with small talk. And then in the end he makes it sound like he is in charge. Not that I would mind that, but he isn't. He is the curator. I secretly started calling him, mister potato and… What?' Elizabeth was interrupted by Peters laugh. Peter tried to stop laughing, but he couldn't. 'What's so funny?' she demanded. Peter shook his head. 'It's… haaahaa… Only you can think of potato as a mean nickname… hahaha…' Elizabeth raised her eyebrow and smiled. 'That's why I always chose the names. I'm just very good at it.' She kissed Peter again. 'But really El, how was it?' Peter asked when he retreated. 'Well I have to say Mister White has beautiful paintings. I'm sure the National Gallery will want some of them. I didn't see the master piece though. It wasn't there yet. He wants to draw more attention. But you should have seen it Peter. It was beautiful. The light that came through and I could nearly touch the paintings…'

Talking they walked towards the house. It was getting dark already. It took Peter several minutes to find the key and put it into the lock. 'We should really get a lamp here.' Peter said as he finally opened the door. Quickly Peter walked into the house and held the door open for El. She was still talking about the paintings. It was as dark outside the house as inside. Peter hadn't spent much time here, so he didn't even know if he had a lamp downstairs. There were lamps on in the kitchen though. Peter frowned, he didn't remember leaving those on and he had left last. Peter placed his bag by the stairs. He would bring that up later, now he needed to listen to his wife. Peter was taking off his coat, as El threw her bag on the couch. 'Umpfff…' El turned around to watch at the couch. Peter quickly crossed the few meters between them, grabbing his gun. 'Put up your hands slowly.' On the couch a person sat up, he massaged his eyes for a few minutes and then looked at the gun. 'Really Suit. You are just going to shoot me. I had expected more. Innocent until proven guilty. Well there goes our constitution. And who throws their bag on the couch these days.'

Suddenly the lights in the living room turned on and the Burkes could see a very tired Mozzie sitting on the couch. He was rubbing his abdomen, where the bag had hit him. The bag had fallen on to the ground, when Mozzie had sat up. 'I told you this would happen,' said a voice on the other side of the room. Elizabeth turned around so fast that Peter hardly saw her move. A smile appeared on his lips. He knew that voice. It was the voice of the one and only Neal Caffrey.

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Neal smiled as he saw the look of surprise on the Burkes faces. 'Yes, you said that. But how was I to know that would happen. Normal people don't just throw things on their couches. They know that there might be somebody sitting there or laying there.' Mozzie said mopping. 'A lot of people throw stuff on their couch, Moz. I don't, because I know that you could be lying there. Often diminishing my wine cabinet, if I might add. How is my wine cabinet anyway? Do I even have...' Neal was suddenly cut off by El fiercely hugging him. 'You're back. You're safe. God I was so worried. We were so worried. Where have you been? Do you know how worried we have been? I thought the worst and so did June. Neal, what happened?' Neal smiled at El's questions and returned the hug. 'I was… working on… something. Sorry I worried you. It was not my initial intension to disappear like that.' As Neal said that, he could feel El shaking her head.

'No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. You just got back. You have been through a lot.' El said as she pulled back from the hug. Neal smiled his million dollar smile, but he failed miserably. 'I'm fine, really.' He said. Not only trying to convince El, but also himself. El looked him straight in the eyes. Neal felt like she was looking right into his soul. It always made him feel uncomfortable. El had a way of knowing exactly what was going on in somebody's mind. Tears had begun to form in Elizabeth's eyes. Like she knew how he was feeling. 'O Neal! You're safe now. Do you hear me? You're safe. Nobody is going to hurt anymore. You're safe. It's over. It's over.' She said, while pulling him into another hug. Neal closed his eyes. That was what his mother had said to him.

When they had just joined WITSEC, Neal had been terrified of being alone. He would wake up screaming, thinking that his parents had left him. That everybody he loved was dead. In the beginning his mother had always come over. She would lie next to him, whispering that he was going to be okay. That he was safe and that the dream was over. Nobody was ever going to hurt them. But after a few years his mother stopped coming. Neal would lie awake in the middle of the night, hoping that his mother was still there. And after a while he accepted, that she wouldn't always be there for him. The dreams stopped and Neal never was afraid of being alone again. Now Neal felt the tears burning in the corner of his eye. He had missed this. He had missed the feeling of being safe. But he had never felt as safe as now. Biting his lip Neal closed his eyes even harder. Yet he could still feel the tears running down his face.

After a few moments Neal dared to open his eyes again. His tears had dried up, but El was still holding him. Mozzie was sleeping on the couch again. The trip back to New York had taken everything form the small conman. He was completely exhausted. Neal was happy his friend could finally take a break. Looking over the room, Neal realized that Peter had disappeared. Silently listening he could hear Peter pacing around on the first floor. 'Eh, Elizabeth? Not that I don't appreciate these hugs. But I think Peter might get jealous when he sees that you like hugging me, more then you like hugging him.' Letting out a quiet laugh, Elizabeth let go. Neal smiled at her. 'Thank you.' El tilted her head and winked at him. 'You're welcome. I don't want you dying on my carpet.' That made Neal laugh. 'I have to say, it is a very nice carpet. For the 50's. Did Peter choose this carpet?' That moment Peter chose to decent from the stairs. Both Neal and El looked at him and started laughing. At that Mozzie woke up. He looked at the laughing couple and then at Peter. Just as clueless about what had the two laughing. 'You know what. I'm starving. And if my nose is correct, I smell the delicious aroma of the Italian kitchen. Of which the irony does not escape me.' With those words Mozzie marched to the kitchen. Leaving a laughing Elizabeth and Neal behind.

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After Mozzie's statement, they had followed him to the kitchen. Quickly Neal had jumped to the stove and turned the pit lower, as the pasta nearly boiled over. El had eagerly stepped in to help Neal prepare. She loved Italian cuisine. This left Mozzie and Peter with the task of preparing the "table". That "table" turned out to be the salon table. As Peter put down several plates, he could hear Neal instructing Elizabeth on what ingredients to use. Peter smiled as he heard Elizabeth question every instruction.

Peter sighed. His first reaction when he had seen Neal was anger. _Where the hell had he been? Why hadn't he waited? What had he done? Why hadn't he trusted Peter? Why did Neal always do stupid things? _Peter was about to interrupted Neal's conversation with Mozzie, but El stepped in first. She hugged Neal and started asking questions that, even Peter hadn't dared to ask. The reaction on Neal's face was immediate. First he seemed to tense at her words, but then he started to change. Neal straightened his shoulders, hand casual at his side and a smile appeared on his lips. Neal looked like the conman, he used to be. The cocky Caffrey that had caught many criminals over the years. His partner. But there was something different. The smile did not reach his eyes. They darted around the room, making sure he could find a way out. And for the first time Peter got a glimpse of what a hunted man looked like. It was something he never wanted to see ever again. So the anger was replaced by worry. Apparently El realized the damage that she had done. She quickly hugged him again, telling him it was going to be okay. In that moment El sounded like a worried mother. Peter smiled. She would be a great mother. Peter was surprised to see that Neal's mask broke down at that. And he was even more surprised when Neal started crying. Though, Peter could see he was trying very hard not to. It was actually more of a shock than Peter would ever admit.

Suddenly Peter realized that he hadn't seen Neal cry, ever. Not even when Kate had died. The haunted look had been there though. Neal had turned straight to vengeance instead of grieving. It just wasn't Neal. Neal hid his feelings, pushing them away so he wouldn't have to deal with them. Not that Neal hadn't been a wreck, but prison was just no place to get emotional. So Neal had done the only thing he could do to survive. He had hidden and ran away. Peter decided that Neal probably did not want an audience so he turned to Mozzie. Mozzie on the other hand was sound asleep on the couch. Crushing his teeth Peter had gone upstairs to unpack his luggage.

About half an hour later Neal's Italian cuisine was ready. A delicious smell emerged from the pan. 'Good I think everything is ready. Even though it is not how I imagined eating in my living room. I guess it will have to do.' Elizabeth said as everybody sat down. Neal on the other hand was still standing. His arms crossed and looking intently at the table, slightly frowning. Peter raised his eyebrow and looked at Neal. 'Missing something Dino?' That seemed to work, because Neal suddenly smiled and ran back to the kitchen. When he returned Neal was holding a '72 Bordeaux. The moment to relax and think about nothing else then cooking had done Neal good. His eyes sparkled and his smile was genuine. El smiled back at him when he started pouring glasses. Yet Peter noticed something else. When Neal poured wine in one of the glasses his hand was slightly trembling. Quietly Peter stood and took the bottle from Neal. Neal raised his shoulders and sat down on the couch next to Mozzie. Peter looked at Elizabeth, who in response stood up and walked to the kitchen. Only to return with aspire and a glass of water. Peter and Elizabeth didn't even have to communicate, that's what years of marriage brought to a relationship. Neal took the glass and downed the pills without as much as a glance. Which made Peter worry even more. Normally Neal would refuse drugs of any kind.

Peter had to admit that Neal had outdone himself this time. The meal they were currently eating was delicious. The salad was spicy, but the feta made it creamy. The pasta was just terrific. The spices made it sweet and the wine was perfectly chosen. Though Neal did not get to enjoy that. Mozzie had snatched his wine away, even before Neal could as much as reach for it. Before Neal and Mozzie had gone to the Burke household, they went by the store. Neal, being as snobby about food as El, had taken everything he needed to make a sure the meal was delicious. Peter did not complain. Neal was a terrific chef.

'Well Neal I must admit that this was terrific.' Peter said after he finished his second plate. Neal was seated on his left side, sitting slightly sideways. Probably to relief his brushed ribs. His dislocated shoulder was resting on a pillow. Neal got a mischievous grin. 'Well, it's certainly beats deviled ham.' From the kitchen Peter heard a clear laugh. El was making coffee for the gentlemen. Peter hoped it was Italian roast. He shot Neal a dirty look, at which Neal grinned even wider. 'I'm sad to report that I have to agree with the Suit on this occasion. Also the wine was excellent, could you pass me the bottle please.' They all laughed at that. El came back a moment later, with the coffee. Peter sat back in his chair, as the others started talking. It was moments like this Special Agent Peter Burke felt most at home.

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Neal Caffrey felt happy, something he did not expect to feel again. Cooking had always been a hobby. It was an art, just as painting was. Neal could lose himself in the different spices and tastes. El had been nice company, mainly because she understood. She loved cooking just as much as he did, but she also understood the art. Also El wanted to learn. Neal had made her taste the dish every so often to explain what he meant. Smiling she would nod and write something down. Sometimes Elizabeth reminded him of Ellen. She too understood the value of unique cuisine.

During dinner Elizabeth and Peter hadn't said a word about Neal's disappearance. Something Neal really appreciated. He really didn't want to talk about his 3 months in captivity. Not because he didn't want to, but he just couldn't. On the way back to New York Neal had tried to tell Mozzie everything that had happened. It had been one of the hardest things he had ever done. Neal was never one to share and even if he did share, he would only share parts of the story. That was the personality trade that drove Peter mad. _That and my poor impulse control and instinct to run._ Neal sighed. Now that he was back in New York he would have to tell the story again. Now that they were home, Peter would insist on talking about what had happened. Then there was the Bureau. If Neal wanted to stay out of prison he would have to make a full statement of the things that had happened. _Two times._ Neal thought. He would only have to tell the story two times. That shouldn't be so hard. Sighing Neal looked at Peter, who was staring at him intently. _Or maybe a little bit hard._

Quickly Neal turned his attention back to the conversation at hand. This moment they were discussing El's new job at the national art gallery. Mozzie hadn't mentioned El moving to DC, so Neal decided not to comment on that either. 'But isn't the national art gallery in DC?' Neal asked. Elizabeth nodded. 'Yes, it is. But that doesn't mean I can't do work outside of DC. I was the logical choice. Seeing as I lived in New York.' Neal smiled. He could see why El missed New York. New York had something different, something that could never be replaced. He could also see why they would want to send Elizabeth. She was not just good at her job, but she loved it that's what made her so good. Her enthusiasm, her kindness and her strength. 'So what's the job? Anything interesting?' He asked while smiling his one million dollar smiles. From across the salon table Peter sent him a frown. Neal blinked innocently. 'What?' 'You know what.' Peter replied. 'No, I don't.' Neal quickly answered. 'Yes, you do.' 'I don't believe I do'

'Ehh. Boys, behave.' El interrupted. Neal smiled at Peter. It felt good to argue like that, like nothing had changed. But the moment was shortly lived. 'Yes, quite interesting, actually. You see there is this new exposition. They have amazing paintings Neal. You have to see it. Mozzie you should come to. They are so amazing.' El explained. Almost looking like a kid in a toy store. She had a bright twinkle in her eyes. 'They are all considered lost and there all from great masters. The owner found them a year ago in an old mansion in northern Italië. He first wanted to keep the paintings to himself, that's why he did not mention his discovery to anyone. But this year he decided that he couldn't hide the paintings from the world any longer.' Meanwhile Neal looked at Elizabeth in disbelieve. _No it could be. Could it?_

'If you ask me he wanted to drive up the price, by restoring the paintings.' Elizabeth looked at Peter. Unaware of the panic that Neal felt rising inside. The words "lost paintings" kept echoing through his head. _It all makes sense now. _That's where the paintings had gone. That was his plan all along. Everything started to fall into place. The never ending painting, the time limit, the detail, the ageing. 'The center piece was still missing though. I'm betting he wants to drive up that price to. I'm excited to see it though. If it is as good as the rest it will sell for a pretty high price.' El told them. She frowned as she said it. _Of course the center piece. _ Neal was only half listening to what El was saying. The con Mr. Whitehall was running unfolding inside his head. 'Very strange man, that owner.' El continued while looking at Peter. 'I mean. One moment he looked like a decent man. And in the next he looked like someone you would avoid on the street, because you think he is going to kill you with his eyes. Neal you would like his style though. Very traditional. Except for the shoes. That was kind of a mismatch. I mean what man wears snake leather shoes in New York City.' At that Neal's heart skipped a beat and he quickly came to a few conclusions. _Mr. Whitehall is in New York. He is selling the paintings. He is still missing the centerpiece. Mr. Whitehall and Elizabeth have met. He knows Peters surname. He knows Elizabeth is Peter's wife, because of their surname. This means he knows where to find me and he knows how to hurt me._


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's note**

**Hello there everyone, so here it is. Part one of the conversation, as to what happened to Neal when he was taken. And to make up for not updating regularly, I will give you guys a treat for the next chapter. We will be greeting an old FBI agent back into our story. I will not tell you who she is, but she has a lot to make up for. ;) Thanks again for following, reviewing and reading in general. I hope you will enjoy this chapter, as much as I enjoy writing for you. I wish you all a great vacation! Please review and enjoy!**

Chapter 11

It was dark in New York City, which wasn't strange since it was already 9 pm. Not that the city was a sleep. New York was still wide awake. Full of people who were exploring it's beauties. Big billboards illuminated the sky and the streets were filled with casually dressed people. That was what the man with the cigarette hated the most, the crowd. People trying to cross the street even though the light was red. Bike messengers crossing through small spaces, nearly being run over in the process. The man liked peace, it was essential for his line of work. That's why he had taken a detour and had driven through the outer parts of New York. At the moment the man was sitting inside his black Ford. Taping his fingers on the stearin wheel, as he watched the house. Luckily for him this street seemed to be empty. Like the street felt his presence. It knew something evil had arrived.

The man grimaced. Italië had not gone well. The boss had been furious about the fall out. Not that it had surprised him. It had been a weakling. The end had been fun though. His hand brushed past his 9 mm and he started to smile. Silently stroking his gun the man looked at the street again. In several houses the lights turned off. The people in this street were going to bed. The man had a great view and the binoculars did help too. In one of the houses a young woman started undressing, until she was just in her bra. Then she closed the curtain and disappeared from few. The man coughed and searched the passenger's seat. _Damn, where are they? _Finally his hands found the pack. Now he just needed his lighter. Picking a cigarette he threw the pack back on the passenger's seat. Searching his left pocked he found a red lighter. Clicking the lighter came to life. The man put his cigarette in his mouth and lighted it. _God that's good. _Slightly cracking open the window the man blew the smoke out of his mouth.

He watched as a bald man with funny glasses walked out of the house, only to disappear at the end of the street. Inside the house a man was on the phone. _That must be the agent. _The man took another sip from his cigarette and smiled. _See you soon Caffrey. See you soon._

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Neal Caffrey didn't sleep well. He had never slept well. He managed to cover it up though. Nobody had ever asked him if he slept okay. The only one who knew about Neal's sleeping problems was Mozzie. Then again Mozzie almost lived on Neal's couch. Shaking his head Neal moved from position, while looking at the white ceiling. When El had described Mr. White, Neal had quickly made the connection to Mr. Whitehall. He had frozen on the couch, not knowing a proper response. Mozzie on the other hand had chocked on his wine and started coughing. He too had made the connection between Neal's demon and Mr. White. Luckily the commotion had saved Neal an unpleasant conversation with Peter. Grimacing Neal thought back to the conversation he had just had. _No, the unpleasant conversation had come later after Mozzie left. _

El had rushed to the kitchen to get some more water for Mozzie. Peter had been staring at the table, now and then frowning at his phone. After half an hour Mozzie had excused himself. Claiming he had to check in on Estelle, because he had left her cage open and there was a crow's nest nearby. 'Don't worry, though. Winter is coming and I will be in touch with you shortly.' He had winked at Neal, clearly thinking that nobody would notice. Elizabeth had smiled, though. Shaking her head as she closed the door. Peter had looked at Neal and raised an eyebrow, who in return had risen his shoulders. Neal had gotten the message, though. Mozzie was going to check if his street contacts new more about Mr. Whitehall and if necessary put an escape plan in motion. After Mozzie had left El had gone to the kitchen to set a cup of coffee and Peter had gotten up to call the Bureau. From his seat on the couch Neal could hear Peter explaining the situation to Hughes. Peter was trying to convince Hughes to let Neal stay the night at the Burke household, using Neal's injuries as a valid argument not to send him to Maximum Security.

With nothing else to do, Neal started patting Satchmo. The dog had moved next to him on the couch. Meanwhile Neal considered his options. Mozzie wanted him to run, so much was clear. But if he ran again there would be no turning back. The FBI would hunt him down, putting him on every possible watch list. Not that the FBI could catch him, not if they did not use Peter. Yet Neal would never be able to live a normal life, he would never be free. Of course there were also Whitehall's bosses. If they turned their attention to him, well that would not be very good. Especially not with him on every wanted list in the world. On the other hand the FBI only wanted to use him. They never intended to let him go free in the first place. They wanted to keep him, like a little pet. _A pet criminal_. The irony of that statement did not escape Neal. That wasn't fair though. Not the entire FBI wanted him on a leash.

No, he needed to stay. Not just for his freedom, but for Peters as well. Peter had faith in him, faith that Neal would try to do the right thing. Peter had denied his post in DC for Neal. That was something Neal would never forget. Nobody except Ellen had ever given something up for him. So he had to stay, for Peter, for El, for June and even for Jones and Diana. They were his family. Or the closed thing he ever had to a family. 'You don't leave family, Neal. And family will never leave you.' That was what Ellen had told him, after he had run away from his mother's house. His mother had been away again and a nine year old Neal had felt lonely inside the empty house. So he decided to run away. His mother wouldn't notice anyway. But Ellen had told him to go back and so he went back, finding his mother unaware of the fact that he had even left the house. Neal had never believed Ellen's statement after that. His mother always proven her wrong, but now he could see what Ellen had meant. True family will always be there for you, if you are there for them.

Elizabeth walked into the living room with three cups of coffee and a blanket in her hands. While walking towards the salon table, she kissed Peter on the lips. Peter who was still on the phone smiled and then looked embarrassed, because he hadn't heard Hugh's reply. Elizabeth and Peter were such a good couple. Mozzie had started calling them Mr. and Mrs. Suit. As a reference to the Mr. and Mrs. Smith movie. 'Neal they both work for some secret spy agency. The rest is al just a cover. How many people do you think they killed?' Secretly Neal was jealous of their relationship. Peter and Elizabeth knew each other inside out. Something Neal could never have with a woman. He had spent too much time pretending to be somebody else. Neal didn't even know if the real Neal Caffrey was in there anymore.

After putting Peter's cup on the table Elizabeth handed Neal his cup and said, 'I'm going to bed. I have a meeting with the curator at 8. And a lunch date with one of my friends at eleven.' she pulled a face and continued. 'You boys behave yourself, okay? Neal here is a blanket. I'm sorry you have to sleep on the couch, but somebody forgot to buy furniture.' As she shot Peter angry glance. Neal couldn't help but chuckle. Peter wasn't very good at shopping. He always forgot to do it. 'O and don't forget to take your pain medication.' She walked over to the side table and took out a small bottle of pills. Neal couldn't help, but smile. El reminded him so much of Ellen. 'It's fine Elizabeth. It's better than sleeping on the ground, trust me. And I don't know if I will be sleeping here anyway. That's all up to the bureau.' At that Elizabeth frowned and turned to face Peter. Peter gave them an innocent look as he ended his phone call. Quickly he walked over to Elizabeth and gave her a kiss. But El kept frowning at him. Neal recognized that frown. It was the "tell me what I want to hear or I will be very angry" frown. Neal raised his eyebrow at Peter. 'And? What's the verdict? Are the marshals dragging me back to the Super Max?' Neal could see Peter enjoyed this moment. He picked up his coffee and took a slow sip, while slightly closing his eyes. Than he opened them and started smiling. 'No prison bed for you. Apparently your injuries are so severe that a prison bed will not do. You will have to make do with the Burke couch. Don't worry, I promise you'll sleep like a baby.' Neal released his breath and sat back, making himself comfortable on the couch. 'Really, I didn't know my injuries were that severe. Maybe I should get a second opinion. What do you say dr. Burke?' Neal said as he gave Peter a cheeky smile. El started laughing at that. 'Dr. Burke is out of the country, as to this couch. Let's say it's been well tested.' Kissing Peter one last time, El walked upstairs to the bathroom.

When El left, Peter didn't start asking questions immediately. Though Neal could see he wanted to. Peter just opened his mouth to ask the first question. But before he could finish Neal had raised his hand. 'I will tell you everything, you need to know. But there are certain things I will not tell the Bureau and there are other things that I can't tell you. Do you understand me? This conversation has to be off record. It has to be.' Neal bit his lip. Something he hadn't done since he was a kid. He had sounded desperate and if there was one thing that Neal hated, it was to look fragile. After a few minutes Neal dared to look up. Peter was still looking at him, a worried expression on his face. Suddenly he pulled out his badge and put it on the table. Neal nodded. This was the way Neal had told Peter the truth about Adler and how he had met Kate. Peter sat back into his chair, coffee resting on his lap. 'Good, then. Where were we?' Neal started. 'Yes, right before the plane landed they put the hood back on. I really hate that thing. Kind of smart when you think about it.' Neal grimaced. 'How come?' Peter asked curiously. Neal sighed, so much for not interrupting. 'Well if you don't know where you are, how are you going to ask for help? Also I'm not a loved man in Europe. I allegedly stole a lot of things. Most of those items belonged to dangerous people. People who would love to see me dead.' Neal looked at Peter, who seemed surprised of his statement. 'Don't look so surprised. I formed a crew with Keller at that time. And as you remember Keller is not shy of violence. Does it really surprise you that his targets weren't either?' Neal could see Peter wasn't happy when he mentioned Keller. Even though everything had worked out, Peter would never forget that Keller had kidnapped El and neither would Neal. Peter had forgiven Neal, but Neal would never forgive himself for putting Elizabeth and Peter in that position.

'Anyway,' he quickly continued. 'They put me in a car. It was a black one, I think. I could see a bit of paint, when I tripped trying to get inside. It was an old car, not an automatic. The man driving it was absolutely terrible. That we weren't in an accident is still a riddle to me.' Peter rolled his eyes. _Leave it to Neal, to complain about his abductors driving style. _'I could smell smoke, like that of a cigarette. Cheap brand though. Camel I think. They drove me around for a while. Tried to make out sounds, but the hood was too thick. When they pulled me out, all I could see was the ground. It was dirty. Some sort of oil on the ground. The street looked like it was near an old factory…' 'Maybe the old industrial part of Rome?' Peter interjected. 'No… Yes… Maybe. I don't know. If you have a map, I might be able to pinpoint its location. But I won't promise anything. It's all a bit hazy. The only moments I was outside of that building where the three times I tried to escape. And then I wasn't really paying attention to my surroundings.' Suddenly Peter moved forward grabbing Neal's hands. He had a worried look on his face. 'It's okay. We'll look into it tomorrow.' Neal nodded and stopped fiddling with his hands. Taking a deep breath, he continued. 'They dragged me through a large hallway. At least I think it was a hallway. It was large, though. I could hear our footsteps echoing through the room. Suddenly they stopped and I fell.' Bending forward to put his cup down, Neal grimaced. Because they had his hands tied behind his back, didn't have anything to break his fall. This ended with him falling flat on his face. No, that was not a detail he would ever share with Peter. They would have a field day at work. Neal knew exactly what Diana would say. 'The great Neal Caffrey falling flat on his face? I wish I could have seen that.'

Neal sighed after Peter shot him another one of his worried glances. 'They threw me in a room and then locked the door behind me. I didn't know if there was somebody else in the room, so I waited. Nothing happened. Nobody moved the hood or picked me of the ground. So I tried to get the hood of. Not an easy task, with your hands behind your back.' Neal stopped talking as Peter's smirk interrupted him again. He raised an eyebrow at Peter. 'Something funny?' Peter shook his head and answered. 'And here I thought that the great Neal Caffrey could do anything.' Neal shot Peter an offended look. 'I said it was hard, not that I couldn't do it. The room they kept me in was quite large. Very high ceilings. Couple of windows, but I couldn't look through them. There was a large bucket on the right side of the room, near the door and on the other side was a matrass. Well I say matrass. It was more like a thick plank with a blanket and a pillow over it. I stared walking around looking for an exit, but there was nothing. The walls looked solid, though there were a few cracks. I don't know how long I sat there. I think it was a couple of hours. Than the door opened and a small man came through the door. He had a bottle of water, so that I could drink. Then he just left. My hands were still tied and they were starting to feel numb. I think they were afraid that I would escape, when my hands were free.' _They were right about that one._ 'At some point I must have fallen asleep, because when I woke up my hands were untied and there was a sandwich on the ground.' _Well to call it a sandwich is kind._ Pulling a face Neal continued.'You would have liked it Peter, if I didn't know better it was deviled ham. At least it smelled that way.' That comment made Peter grin. 'Anyway, they didn't come back till the next morning. I don't care what anyone says, Rome has cold nights.'

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The first night of his captivity had not been fun. After the sandwich nobody came. The building sounded deserted. Like Neal was the only person inside. Deciding not to wait for them to come back, Neal started to explorer the room. The door was made of steel, with the mechanism on the outside. There was no chance of picking the lock. Neal suspected it was a padlock. When he was done with the door, Neal moved to the windows. Standing on the matrass Neal tried to reach them. But they were too far up. Though, it looked like the glass would be easy to break. If he could reach them somehow, he could escape. Sighing Neal continued his search. The walls were made of concrete, just as the floor. They felt very thick, but there were cracks all over. Like the walls had been plastered, but the plaster had come off. After checking the room from top to bottom, Neal had sat down in the middle of the room. Trying to come up with an escape plan.

'After I checked the room, I came up with an escape plan.' Neal continued. 'Of course you did. You wouldn't be Neal Caffrey if you didn't.' Peter interrupted, while shaking his head. Neal gave Peter one of his million dollar smiles. 'Well there are people who go sit in a corner and feel sorry for themselves. And then there is me. I'm not ashamed to belong to a different category. I find it quite refreshing. To be honest if I didn't belong to a different category, I wouldn't be of any use to the FBI. I decided that escaping that night wasn't a good idea. It was nearly morning and I guessed that they would be back soon. I first wanted to see if I could con my way out.' Neal grimaced at the thought. His plan to con his way out had gone terrible. 'They didn't come in the morning. It was around twelve, when they finally came through the door. The little man from the day before and a very large man. About 35 years old, brown hair. He looked like an experiment had gone wrong. I can sketch them for you. Maybe you can pull face recognition. "The boss wants to see you." The big guy told me. So I got up and straightened my shirt. They brought me to a larger room. There was a couch and a table. And on the other side there was a table with breakfast. At the table was Mr. Whitehall eating an egg. "Mr. Caffrey. Care to join me?" he asked… What?' Neal looked angry at Peter, who was shaking his head repeatedly. 'Neal, why do you always have to provoke people?' Neal shot him an innocent look. 'I do not always provoke people. Only to people who are absolutely…' 'Which is everyone. Don't say that it's not true. You like being cocky.' Neal raised his shoulders. 'Well, I can't deny I like leaving a certain impression. Anyway, before I could reply the big guy gave me a push. So Peter you don't have to worry, I didn't say a word. We ate breakfast, like gentlemen. Then he guided me to another room. The room was incredible. Different sizes of canvas. About 50 pigment colors to make paint. Old brushes, used in Monet's time. Books filled with different paintings. The resources he had, not even Mozzie could have done it. Not in that short amount of time.'

'In the meantime Mr. Whitehall had walked over to the books. He opened it on a lost Degas painting. "I heard you have much experience with Degas' painting style. Here is what I want you to do. I will give you one day to paint the painting and another day to degage the painting. If you haven't finished by then, you will be punished. I can assure you, that's not something you want to experience. Good luck." He left me alone, with big Will. The little guy kept bringing me food and water during the day. But big Will kept near the entrance. There was no way I could get by him.' Neal suddenly took a sharp breath, as he moved his position on the couch. Peter looked at his watch and then stood. Only to come back a couple of minutes later with a glass of water. Neal nodded gratefully and downed one of the pills. 'Can you give me a list of paintings you forged?' Peter asked. The question made Neal smile. 'All the paintings?' He asked back teasing. Rolling his eyes Peter motioned for him to continue. 'I spend most of that day painting and at the end of the day the painting was nearly finished. I still needed to do a little detail, but I wanted to hide a message inside those details.' 'You wanted to make sure, everybody knew it was a forgery. In the hope of raising a flag, which would lead us to you.' Neal nodded expectantly. He knew Peter would have understood his message. 'I put in a little U-boat, with my initials. Mr. Whitehall hadn't returned, so I told big Will I was done. He brought me back to my room.'

'You tried to run, didn't you?' It wasn't really a question, more of a statement. Neal grimaced at the memory. Yes, he had tried to run. But it didn't go according to plan. 'When I was back in my room, they locked the door behind me. I waited for half an hour, but I didn't hear anything else. That's when I decided to give my escape plan a go. I moved the matrass to the opposite of the wall creating two walls. I hoped to climb up to the window and look if it was locked. I started climbing, but the bed wasn't strong enough. It fell and I was left hanging from the window. The sound echoing through the big building. I knew they would come in any minute. I worked my way up, but it didn't have any locks. So I did the only thing I could think of. I broke the window, put my fist through it. I was lucky it wasn't double glass. I did bruise a couple of fingers and there was a deep cut on the left side of my hand. It didn't matter though. I thought I was free, that I had escaped…' Neal picked up his water and took a sip. He had felt so relieved when the glass broke. 'But just when I started pulling myself through the window, the door thrown open. They grabbed my left leg and pulled me back in. I fell on my back. Before I knew it he was on me. Kicking me in the abdomen. The pain was so bad I couldn't see anymore. I could still hear him cursing me. Then a voice telling him not to hit my face. After that I passed out.'

'When I woke up I was in a different room. They had tied me to a draining pipe. First I couldn't remember where I was. Then it all came back and I had a screaming head age. Big Will must have broken a couple of ribs, because there was a sharp pain in my chest every time I breathed. My ankle was red and you could see a hand forming. They left me there tied up for about a day.' All of a sudden Neal couldn't sit still anymore. Adrenaline rushing through him. He got up and started pacing through the room. Peters worried eyes following his every move. 'I knew why.' He laughed humorlessly. 'They were waiting for him to return. It felt like ages before the door finally opened. even now I wished it would have stayed closed.'

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At 3 am things finally quiet down in the Burke household. The man had smoked 3 cigarettes and had received 2 phone calls from his boss, in that time. The first call was to inform his boss of the activity in the house and to confirm the target was actually there. The second one was to receive his orders. There had been a lot of activity since that first call. After the FBI agent had ended his call, the woman had gone upstairs. The man had seen her turn on the bathroom lights. He was very disappointed when she closed the curtains, before undressing_. Damn curtains. _After half an hour the woman had emerged from the bathroom and walked into the bedroom. There she had stayed for the remainder of the evening, turning of the lights around 12 pm. In the meantime the living room had not been boring either. He had seen Neal Caffrey pacing around through the living room. He could clearly see the injuries big Will had inflicted. The man smiled slightly at that. Big Will threw good punches. After a few moments Caffrey had sat down again. They stayed in the same position for several hours. Around 1 am the FBI agent had stood up again, grabbing his phone. About 30 minutes later a van had emerged and parked 5 cars away from his.

The FBI agent had walked upstairs about an hour ago. The house seemed quiet and dark. The man looked at his clock again. He needed to meet his boss around 5 am. _Time to set the plan into motion. _The man grabbed something form the passenger's seat and quietly got out of the car. He walked around the block, until he reached the gardens. Than he climbed over the fence and started searching for the right house. After 6 houses he found the right patio. Silently he walked towards the door, peaking inside to see if anyone was still up. The house remained quiet. There was a person lying on the couch, but there was nobody else. Bending his knees the man started picking the lock. It gave way with a soft click. The man waited a few minutes before opening the door and walking inside. The room was empty except for a salon table, a couch and a couple of chairs. The man walked over to the couch and looked down on the sleeping Neal Caffrey. _Well hello there. _He bended over, his faces only an inch away from Neal's. _If only the boss didn't need you anymore. _Smiling he grabbed the object in his pocket and left it on the salon table. Silently the man walked back to the patio door, looking back one last time. _Sleep tight Caffrey._ Than he slipped away, leaving the buzzing phone right next to Neal on the table.


End file.
